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Copyright, 1893, by 

HUNT & EATON, 

New York. 



Composition, electrotypiiig, printing, and binding by 

HUNT & EATON, 

150 Fifth Avenue, New York. 



CONTK^NXS. 



PAGE 

Life on Board a School-ship 7 

Balloons Lost at Sea 12 

Make Your Own Telegraph ; . . . , 17 

How TO Make an Electric Battery 21 

Fighting for a Wire 27 

A United States Life-Saving Station 36 

How TO Run a Boat Club 41 

The Story of a Great Race 49 

Model Yachting 55 

A Great Yacht Race 67 

A Young Photographer 72 

How to Make a Railroad Car 97 

The " Festina " loi 

How to Make a Banjo 114 

An Aquarium, and How to Make Lt 121 

How TO Grow a Miniature Oak Tree in a Bottle , 125 

How TO Sit a Horse 127 

Hints About Swimming 129 

To Mammoth Cave on a Bicycle , 131 

Skating 138 

Baseball 142 

The Battle of Boontown 144 

Football 148 

Captain Bess , 150 

Cricket 157 

Lacrosse 163 

Kites 168 

Easy Experiments for Our Boys 171 



fT^J^I 




Our Boys 




LIFE ON BOARD A SCHOOL-SHIP. 




OMETHING there is about a 
life at sea that strongly ap- 
peals to the imagination of the 
average boy. He wishes un- 
usual experiences and strange 
adventures, and surely these lie 
over sea. So strong is the de- 
sire with some that they are not 
satisfied short of actual trial, and it is from 
these that Uncle Sam recruits his navy. 
The government has two places for train- 
ing these boys for the service — ^the Annap- 
olis Naval Academy and the apprentice 
training ships. The one furnishes it with 
officers, the other with skilled seamen. 
The life of the apprentice is more rigorous 
than that of the cadet. Great care is 
used in their selection and preparation for the duties on a 
man-of-war. The boys to enter the service must be between 
the ages of fourteen and eighteen years, and be of robust 




APPRENTICES ALOFT. 



frame, healthy constitution, and intelligent mind. Strict at- 
tention is paid to the stature, no one who is manifestly under 
size for his age being received. They must be able to read 



OUR BOYS. 



and write, although this condition is sometimes relaxed when 
the applicant is otherwise very bright. 

The boy who wishes to enter the service and feels that he 
has these qualifications presents himself before the ship's ex- 




OLD FRIGATE "CONSTITUTION." 

amining board. This is something of an ordeal for the re- 
cruit. The board consists of the captain, a line officer, and 
the senior medical officer of the vessel. The captain's room 
is usually the most cozy of the ship. It is a curious combina- 
tion of a gentleman's library and a shipmaster's office. The 
reversed compass above his head keeps 
him informed as to the ship's course. A 
barometer hangs at his side, while on the 
table are spread charts and mariners' in- 
struments. Books line the walls, and scat- 
tered about are bric-a-brac and mementoes 
picked up in various ports. The officers 
are in full uniform. The examination of 
the boy is made, and if everything is satis- 
factory the agreement is then read and ex- 
plained to him. 

" Do you voluntarily consent to all the 
conditions in that ? " asks the captain. 




OUR BOYS. 




THE SEXTANT. 



Young America, who is usually too frightened or excited to 
haggle about the terms, though the accompanying parent or 
guardian often 
does, signs the pa- 
per and is enlisted. 
As soon as pos- 
sible after enlist- 
ment the boys are 
transferred to the 
training ship, which 
is not handsome, 
though convenient 
and roomy. There 
in perfection is 
economy of space. 
The storehouses 
and the water- 
tanks are in the 

hole — a dark, uncomfortable place where rats hold carnival 
and culprits do penance. The first deck contains the offices, 
armories, and seamen's quarters. On the second are the 
spaces devoted alternately to eating and sleeping, the school- 
rooms, and the sick bay, while above are the guns and quar- 
ters for training. 

The life is one of routine. The morning bell strikes at five 
o'clock, and there is a stir among the hammocks and an ap- 
pearance of sleepy heads. There 
is a general bustle of dressing, and 
everything seems in confusion. 
, But scarcely five minutes elapse 
before the petty officers are in full 
swing of their several functions in 
the separate parts of the crew, the ham- 
mocks are neatly stowed away in the net- 
tings, the clothesbags are in their racks, 
and the boys are ready for their early cup of 
coffee. They then set about their first tasks 

TAKING AN OBSERVATION 

WITH THE SEXTANT. — some to scrub down the decks, others to 





10 OUR BOYS. 

wash clothes; and this last is no small task, especially in 
summer, when the suits worn are of white canvas and easily 
soiled. This work usually takes a couple of hours, and it is 
relieved by breakfast. This over, they return again to their 
work — some to the schoolroom, some to the gymnasium, and 
some to the mastery of seamanship. 

The boys manage to illumine the day with some gleams of 
fun. Hammock-slinging is a merry time, for sailors* ham- 
mocks are not to be trifled with. 

One boy, desirous not to display his ignorance of them be- 
fore the other boys, resolved to 
make his first attempt at getting 
into one when no one was looking. 
The opportunity came, and he made 
a bolt. Unfortunate jump it proved, 
for he went clean over the ham- 
mock, striking the boy beyond, and 

SAILOR BOY'S HAMMOCK. ... . . 

both went down m glorious confusion . 

Fresh recruits are not the only victims. The stillness of 
the night is frequently broken by a sudden bump, followed by 
a suppressed giggle, and all know that the knife has been ap- 
plied to some one's hammock. The demerit book contains 
marks which speak forcibly, if not eloquently, on this point. 

The demerit system employed is a rather complex one. 
The amount of liberty each boy is given depends upon his de- 
portment. They are divided into sections on this basis, those 
in the first division being allowed two afternoons ashore ; those 
in the second one, and those in the third none at all. A 
printed list of the misdemeanors, with the punishments at- 
tached to each, is posted on the ship. The list is a constantly 
growing one, keeping pace with the mischievous inventions 
of the youthful mind. The records, though somewhat cabal- 
istic, are yet interesting reading. Here you see such entries 
as "Franklin Smith, O. T. C. & S.," which signifies that 
Smith returned from his holiday on time, clean and sober. 
Sometimes the entry is simply " D " — drunk, and the poor 
fellow spends the night in the brig. 

The summer cruise is the one break in the year's routine. 



OUR BOYS. 



n 



The apprentices study the English branches, gunnery, and 
seamanship, together with gymnastic training and drill in 
the use of signals. The boys, as a result of this physical 
training, are sturdy, manly-looking fellows. The cruise is 
to give them practical experience. Although it is a change 
it gives more than one of the boys a touch of homesick- 
ness. They are placed on men-of-war and billed for trips 
which may be prolonged to two or three years. The bustle 
and excitement of getting under way, the new scenes that 
surround the apprentice on the man-of-war, the feeling that 
he is actually in the service, for a time overtop other thoughts. 




THE MODERN CRUISER "BALTIMORE." 



But when the pilot is set ashore and the marine band starts 
"The Girl I Left Behind Me," and the ship turns toward an 
unknown ocean, courage weakens. 

The inducements offered the bright, energetic boy in the 
naval service — if he must begin as an apprentice — are small. 
Promotion above the rating of a petty officer is impossible. 
There are five grades of apprentices. The boy enlists as a 
third-class apprentice. He may then, as he acquires profi- 
ciency, be promoted to second and first class apprentice and to 
two grades of seamen apprentices. The boys must serve un- 
til they are twenty-one years of age. Despite its hardships, 
however, there is a peculiar attraction to the life which one 
who has felt its spell cannot soon forget. 




BALLOONS LOST AT SEA. 



ON the 7th of January, 1785, a little more than a year 
after the Montgolfier brothers distinguished themselves 
by the invention of air-balloons, Blanchard, accompanied by 
Dr. Jeffries, succeeded in crossing the English Channel, This 
was for a long time the only fortunate attempt at a maritime 
ascension. On the 15th of June in the same year Pilatre de 
Rozier lost his life while making a similar attempt from Bou- 
logne. 

Toward the middle of the year 1845 a man by the name of 
Comaschi, from Boulogne, set out with his balloon from Con- 
stantinople. He was seen to take his course to the ocean, 
but was never again heard of. On the 7th of October, 1849, 
an aeronaut who had before made many aerial voyages, 
Francis Arban, ascended from Barcelona never to return. 
Judging from the direction of the wind, it seems certain that he 
found his fate in the Mediterranean. 



OUR BOYS. 



13 




Courage and bravery always call forth applause, but they 
demand so much the more admiration when they are inspired 
by disinterested sentiments, by noble aims, by the love of sci- 
ence or patriotism. Of such a nature were the deeds of two 
aeronauts of the siege of Paris — M. Prince, the sailor, and M. 
Lacaze, the soldier, who perished successively in the Atlantic. 
Prince ascended from Paris November 
30, 1870, in the balloon Jacquard, 
with 250 kilogrammes (over 550 
pounds) of letters and dispatches. It 
was eleven o'clock in the evening of a 
very dark night. At daybreak a ves- 
sel near Plymouth observed in the 
water the balloon sent out from the 
besieged city. This was the last 
news of the brave messenger. With- 
out doubt he was carried away to the 
ocean. Before his death, however. 
Prince accomplished his mission, 
having thrown to the sea his bag 
of dispatches ; a ship picked it 
up, and the letters were for the 
most part distributed. The 27th 
of January, when the siege was 
nearly at an end, Lacaze, who 
ascended in the aerostat Richard 
Wallace, met the same fate as 
the noble Prince. He passed 
over the whole of France, and 
was seen first from Niort and 
afterward from La Rochelle. Far 
away from the coasts he was lost 
in a thick fog and the ocean was 
his tomb. 

More fa- 
vored by the 
elements was 
Duruof, in 






>..,A?^. 



Si3 





14 OUR BOYS. 

1868, After being carried out to sea in his aerostat he found 
at a lower level a countercurrent which led him back to the shore. 
Two different times he was seen to drift out over the open sea 
and back again to the coasts. The existence of these higher 
countercurrents is not infrequent in a maritime atmosphere. 

It was by their aid that Lhoste on the 9th of September, 
1883, made his first journey across the British Channel from 
Boulogne-sur-Mer to Folkestone ; he maneuvered so well, and 
so skillfully appropriated to his own use the two aerial currents, 
making between them angles of about forty-five degrees, that 
he succeeded in steering himself toward the coasts of England, 
tacking like a sailboat. Lhoste was then twenty-five years 
old. Before this successful journey he had made, either alone 
or with one of his friends, Eloy, three maritime ascensions, 
when he had always been fortunate enough either to regain the 
shore or be picked up by some vessel. The 27th of May, 
1883, he went up at seven o'clock in the evening from Saint 
Omer, made a circular voyage around the North Sea, and 
landed at Holland in fourteen hours. 

Lhoste was completely fascinated with aeronautism ; the 
danger of maritime ascensions acted upon him as an irresistible 
attraction. Two fatal events, which succeeded each other, did 
not lessen his enthusiasm. His companion, Eloy, met his death 
at the time of an ascension from Lorient, July 14, 1885. He 
went up at half-past six and sailed toward the ocean ; boats 
followed him, but night closed in and he was lost to view. In 
the morning they found the balloon floating in sight of Belle 
Isle-en-Mer, and discovered also near the island of Groix, the 
jacket and cap of the unfortunate aeronaut, who was certainly 
drowned while trying to swim ashore. 

Three days after, on Friday, the 17th, F. A. Gower, an 
American, was also lost at sea in his little balloon, La Ville 
d'Hyeres, with which he started from Cherbourg. He antici- 
pated some interesting experiments in the use of military bal- 
loons. Possessed of much assurance and boldness, he suc- 
ceeded in crossing the channel from Dover to Boulogne. 
When he ascended from Cherbourg he was obliged, for want of 
ballast, to drop to the sea. A vessel discovered him, but just 



OUR BOYS. 



15 



as she was going to his help the balloon broke loose, rapidly 
rising into space. The inexperienced aeronant had cut the 
ropes which bound his skifiE to the balloon ; when last seen he 
was floating on the surface of the billows alone in his frail bark 
half submerged, and making, doubtless, desperate appeals for 
help; he perished a short distance from the coast. 

Even these warnings did not serve to dampen Lhoste's ar- 
dor. The 29th of July of the following year he ascended 




~l^ ""c^ 






sS"^^ 






iTviiSXfe^ r" 



■'■g^,. ggt«i^*"<? ft,^.w» iw-a.'V»r';ayY ^ 




ALONE IN HIS FRAIL BARK. 



16 OUR BOYS. 

from Cherbourg with one of his friends, Mangot, a young aerial 
voyager, who was then but eighteen years of age. His bal- 
loon was provided with a float similar to Sivel's cone anchor, 
a very valuable piece of apparatus for maritime voyagers, as 
it allows the aeronaut some sort of attachment to the ocean, 
and thus gives a greater security. The two aeronauts set out 
at ten o'clcok in the evening; at four the next morning they 
passed above the coast of England just south of Portsmouth, 
and at six landed in the vicinity of London. 

After these repeated successes Lhoste gained great confi- 
dence in maritime ascensions; he no longer recognized their 
peril, and firmly believed in their future utility. 

The 13th of November, 1887, he ascended from the gas- 
house of La Villette, at Paris, with his comrade, Mangot, and 
one young passenger, M. Archdeacon. The balloon, which 
started at eight o'clock, descended at Quillebeuf at eleven in 
the morning. M. Archdeacon stepped out. The wind blew 
very fresh from the southeast toward England. "Mangot," 
said Lhoste to his friend," if we continue our course for Cher- 
bourg, the wind is brisk, in a few hours we could alight in 
England." 

What was said was done. The balloon left the earth; it 
shot like an arrow in the direction of the channel ; a boat per- 
ceived it floating at large. Later the winds changed; the two 
young men were forced to drop to the sea, where the angry 
billows got the better of their fearlessness. The vessel "Prince 
Leopold" witnessed the frightful catastrophe without being 
able to bring the needed help. 

Of what value are all these dangerous experiments, do you 
ask? Assuredly life is a precious thing, and it is criminal to 
hazard it foolishly. But the aeronaut has in view the ad- 
vancement of the art for which he works, as well as a fond- 
ness for venturesome enterprises. 



MAKE YOUR OWN TELEGRAPH. 



ANY ingenious boy, at a small expenditure of time and 
money, will be able to construct his own telegraphic in- 
strument if he follows carefully the instruction here given. 

The telegraphic apparatus (Fig. 7) consists of three princi- 
pal parts — battery (Fig. 6), sounder (Fig. 1), and key (Fig. 
5). 

d 



-^5_ 



TT^ 



a 




In Figs. 1 and 2 are given diagrams of the "sounder." 
The first thing in its construction is the making of the electro- 



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1= (D o 


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OUR BOYS. 



a, a. Fig. 3, are two tire-bolts, in 2. long, \ 



m. 



Fif^.3. 



magnet (/?). 

thick, annealed by heating. Two nuts must be procured for 
each bolt, b b, b b are circular disks 
of thick leather (patent leather is more 
ornamental) | in. in diameter. The 
heads of the bolts ehould be countersunk 
in the first pair of disks so that they 
only project about -^ of an inch. The 
first nuts should be screwed up as far as 
they will go and the second disks firmly 
pressed down against them. Now wind 
the spools with No. 24 cotton-covered 
magnet-wire if it is desired to use the 
Instrument only at home on a very short circuit. If it is to be 
used on a line between two or more houses they must be 
wound with No. Z6. When they are done they may be 
covered with thin patent leather to give a finished appear- 
ance. ^ is a strip of soft iron 2\ in. long by f in. wide. 




FLg.4. 



O 



Oe 



Of 



and about y\- in. 
thick, at equal 
distances from 
the ends of 
which two holes 
1^ in. apart from 
the centers must 
be drilled, to ad- 
mit the ends of 
the bolts. Two 
smaller holes for 
wood- screws to 
fasten the mag- 
net to the base 
must also be 
drilled \ in. from the ends. This strip of iron is fastened on 
with the second pair of nuts to the bolts. 

Next comes the armature (c. Fig. 1). A plan of this is 
given in Fig. 4. « is a strip of brass 3^xfxy\- inches. This may 
be obtained from the framework of an old clock. ^ is a strip 



(^ 



OUR BOYS. 



19 



of soft iron l|^xfxyi^ inches, soldered to about the middle of the 
brass strip. <: is a piece of telegraph wire 1 in. long and 



Fig. 6. 



n~^ 



A- SP 





Fig. a 



sharpened at both ends. One end of the brass strip is bent 

over the wire and soldered. Two holes must be drilled in the 

brass strip : one about halfway from b to c, which allows the 

wire hook g to fit tightly, and the other about \ in. from the 

end larger than the screw/, Fig. 1. Next comes the bearing 

of the axle, c. This is a piece of brass Ix^Xy^^. Near one end 

is punched a dent as deep as possible, and near the other end two 

holes are drilled 

to admit screws 

to fasten them to 

the hard-wood 

post {e, Fig. 1) 

which is at the 

proper height to 

hold c about Jg 

of an inch from c 

when level. The 

width must be 

regulated so as 



m 



TDD- 








20 



OUR BOYS. 



Fig. 7. 



to have the ends of the axle fit easily yet not fall out. 
It is better, if an old clock can be procured, to take the 
piece of brass just mentioned from where the screw that 
regulates the balance is leaving it in to make adjustable 
bearings, f. The screwy. Fig. 1, regulates the distance of c 
to 0, and the screw /, passing through the hole in the arma- 
ture, regulates the "play" of c from o. a is a. thumbscrew 

passing through the post h to regu- 
late the spring /. /, t are binding 
screws to which the ends of the mag- 
net wires are fastened. The base 
may be made in any way desired, 
two holes being made in it to allow 
the first pair of nuts to fit into. In 
connecting the magnet wires, if they are wound in the same di- 
rection, connect the outer ends of one coil with the inner end 
■of the other, the other two ends being connected with the 
binding posts. 

A very simple key may be made as in Fig. 5. ^^ is the base ; 
b a stiff brass spring having a fiat knob fastened on the end 




and the other end fas- 
is a screw with its head 
which fits under e , 
nected with b as 
platinum points or 
soldered to the lever 
screw g regulates the 
spring can rise. A 
immersing pieces of 
a solution of salt and 
such a battery should 
alone. The number of 
must be determined by 




tened to the base; e 
filed fiat and a switch 
and the other end con- 
shown ; f, f are two 
pieces of platinum foil 
and screw e; the 
distance that the 
battery is made by 
gas-carbon and zinc in 
water. One cell of 
run the instrument 
such cells on a line 
trial. A diagram of 



the battery and the connection of the instruments Is given in 
Fig. 6 and 7. 



HOW TO MAKE AN ELECTRIC BATTERY. 



UNDER this heading we give to our boys the necessary- 
instructions for making a battery of great power, 
suited to such work as running motors and small in- 
candescent lamps, electroplating, etc. 

Figs. 1 and 2 represent the battery in perspective 
and section. The parts are the jar, the porous cup, 
the zinc plate, the carbon plate, and the liquids. 

The jar («, Figs. 1 and 2) should hold a half gal- 
lon or more. If it is purchased from a dealer in 
electric supplies a 5x7 round jar should be selected. 
Earthen jars will answer, but they are much less 
durable than glass. The acid used in the battery will 
soon find its way through the pores of an earthen jar. 
If such jars are used they should be insulated from 
the shelf or table on which they stand by strips 
of glass. The top of the jar, whether it be glass 
or not, should be coated inside and outside with a 
layer of beeswax and resin to prevent salts climbing from the 
liquid to the top of the jar. The mixture should be about one 
part beeswax to four parts resin. They are simply melted to- 






/;>2 



F.sjl 



22 OUR BOYS. 

gether and applied with a brush while hot. The jar should be 
warm when the mixture is applied. 

The porous cup must be purchased from a dealer. It should 
be about 7 in. high and 3| in. in diameter. It should be coated 
with beeswax and resin at the top to check climbing salts. 
The porous cup stands inside of the jar, as seen at b in Figs. 
1 and 2. 

The zinc plate should be 6 in. long, 2\ in. wide, and \ in. 
thick. It will weigh about a pound. These plates can be 
purchased either cast or rolled and cut any size required. 
They are expensive, however, and they can be easily and 
cheaply made. Zinc has a very low melting point, and scrap 
zinc can be bought for two cents a pound. Melt it in a ladle 
and pour it into a mold of the required shape and size. If a 
large number of plates are wanted it will be well to have an 
iron mold made, but if only a few are needed they may be 
cast in sand or in a mold made of plaster of Paris. 

The zinc plates must be amalgamated before they are used. 
To amalgamate them proceed in the following manner : 

Fill a small jar with dilute sulphuric acid to a depth equal to 
a little more than half the length of a zinc plate. Stand a plate 
in the acid and let it remain a few seconds. A longer time 
will be necessary if the plate is not clean. When the plate 
has been removed from the acid place it in a suitable dish and 
pour a few drops of mercury on it. Spread the mercury over 
it with a swab or with the end of a fiat stick. Then wash the 
plate v/ith water, to remove the acid, and proceed in the same 
way to amalgamate the other end. 

In preparing the dilute sulphuric acid for this purpose use 
one volume of acid to eight volumes of water. An earthen 
jar should be used to mix them in, as heat is generated, and a 
glass vessel would be broken. Be careful with the sulphuric 
acid, as it is very corrosive. 

The zinc plate stands in the porous cup, as seen at c in Figs. 
1 and 2. 

The carbon plates shown at d d in Figs. 1 and 2 are about 
I in. thick, 2^ in. wide, and 7 in. long. In giving these 
dimensions we are supposing a 5x7 battery jar will be used. 



OUR BOYS. 23 

These plates may be bought this size, or they may be bought 
in large sizes, say 12x14, and cut into plates of the required 
size. The large plates are cheaper in proportion to their size. 

To cut the plates make deep scratches on both sides with 
the point of an old jackknife guided by a straightedge, then 
break over the edge of a table or bench. The object of hav- 
ing two carbon plates in each cell is to expose a larger amount 
of conducting surface, thereby reducing the internal resistance 
of the battery and the tendency to polarize. The amount of 
carbon surface necessary will depend upon the use to which 
the battery is to be put. For incandescent lighting four plates 
in each cell are advised ; for general use one or two will be 
sufficient. 

It will be observed that all the carbon plates in the same cell 
are connected with each other by a metallic conductor — e, 
Figs. 1 and 2. This makes them practically one plate of large 
surface. A carbon cylinder, perforated to allow free circula- 
tion of the liquid, would be a perfect arrangement, but carbon 
cylinders are hard to obtain and very costly. A very cheap 
and also a very perfect method of extending the carbon sur- 
face is to use a single plate and pack crushed coke, free from 
dust, around it, filling the entire jar outside of the porous cup. 
If this method is employed a glass tube should be placed in 
the jar before the coke is put in. This tube should reach from 
the top of the jar to the bottom, and should be large enough 
to receive a siphon, which may be made of a piece of quarter- 
inch rubber tubing. The use of this siphon will be explained 
later. 

We will now consider the methods of connecting the zinc and 
carbon plates with connecting wires. Metal clamps are often 
used for this purpose, and they are very serviceable for tem- 
porary use, but they cannot be recommended for permanent 
use, because they soon corrode and the contact with the plate 
is impaired or destroyed. A perfect and permanent connec- 
tion with the zinc plate may be made with mercury as follows : 

Cut a piece of No. 14 rubber-covered copper wire ten or 
twelve inches long. Remove the rubber insulation from each 
end about an inch and clean the wire with sandpaper. Bend 



24 



OUR BOYS. 



one end into a hook, as shown in Fig. 3. Rest the lower end 
of the zinc plate in this hook and lower it into the porous cup. 
Then pour in mercury until it is about one eighth of an inch 
deep in the bottom of the cup, as seen at h in Fig. 2. 

This method has several advantages besides permanence. 
It keeps the zinc plate constantly amalgamated, which is an 
important consideration. It enables us to use the entire plate, 
as the upper end simply drops down into the mercury when 
the lower end is consumed. If a clamp is used as a connect- 
or the upper end of the zinc must be thrown away, or at least 
recast, when the lower end is consumed. With the mercury 




^'9 ^ 



connection scraps of zinc in any shape may be used in an 
emergency by simply dropping them into the cup. 

There are two excellent methods of connecting the carbon 
plate with a conducting wire. In either case the upper end of 
the plate must first be soaked in hot beeswax and resin. This 
fills up the pores and thus prevents the liquid rising to the top 
of the plate by capillary action. After the plate has been thus 
treated the beeswax and resin must be carefully scraped off 
the outside, as it would otherwise act as an insulator between 
the plate and the metallic conductor. 

The first method of attaching a conducting wire is by means 
of a copper plate fastened to the carbon with machine 
screws and nuts, as shown in Fig. 4. The wire may be 



OUR BOYS. 25 

attached to the projecting end of the copper plate by a solder 
joint. The screws and nuts and the entire copper plate must 
now be covered with a thick coat of beeswax and resin to pro- 
tect them from the acid. 

The second method is by means of a lead cap which may be 
cast upon the carbon in a mold made of plaster, sand, wood, 
or metal. The carbon should have one or two holes drilled in 
it before the cap is cast on. The lead will run into these holes 
and keep the cap from coming ofE. If this method is used a 
binding screw may be cast into the lead cap, or the end of the 
wire itself may be cast into the cap, as shown in Fig. 5. The 
lead cap and an inch or two of the wire should be covered with 
beeswax and resin. 

The connections between the cells and outside of the battery 
should be made with solder if binding posts are not used. The 
size of the wire used in connecting the carbon plates with each 
other in the same cell and with the zinc plate of the adjoining 
cell should be about No. 14. 

The liquid in which the zinc plate stands in the porous cup is 
a solution of common salt in water about two thirds saturated. 
The liquid in which the carbon stands in the glass or earthen 
jar is made by mixing one volume of sulphuric acid with eight 
volumes of water, and adding as much pulverized bichromate 
of potash as will dissolve in the mixture. This will be found 
to be about a pound of the bichromate to each gallon of liq- 
uid. Bichromate of soda is in some respects preferable to 
bichromate of potash, and it is a cheaper salt, but it is not so 
common in the market. The liquids should stand at the same 
height in the jar and porous cup, and this height should be 
about five and a half inches in a seven-inch jar. When the 
liquid has been used until its strength is exhausted it may be 
removed from the battery with a siphon and replaced by new 
liquid. To start the siphon immerse it in a pail of water, and 
when it is full pinch it in the middle, to keep the water from 
running out; lift it from the pail, and put one end into the 
liquid to be drawn through it. 

No rule can be given In regard to how often the liquids 
should be renewed unless the work done by the battery Is 



26 OUR BOYS. 

regular. A little experience, however, will enable any one 
using the battery to make his own rules. It will be found that 
the salt water will require renewal more frequently than the 
acid solution, but fortunately the salt water is very cheap. In 
regard to the acid solution, its color indicates its condition. 
It has a bright red color at first, but it gradually turns brown, 
and finally green, before it is worthless. 

Some care is necessary in handling this battery, as the acid 
used in it is very destructive to clothing, carpet, and floor. 
The cellar is a good place to keep it if it is well insulated. 
The even temperature of the cellar is a favorable condition, 
and the moisture of the place will tend to keep the liquids from 
evaporating. It must be remembered, however, that the bat- 
tery must be well insulated if it is put in a damp place. 

This battery gives a very powerful current and polarizes 
very slowly. The zinc does not need to be removed from the 
liquid when the battery is not in use, as the salt water does 
not attack it when the circuit is open. 



FIGHTING FOR A WIRE. 



IN the spring of 1886 I severed my connection with the 
* ' Chicago Herald ' ' and took the poHce * ' run ' ' on the 
" St. Paul Globe." I was what is known to the profession 
as police reporter. My duties were to watch the police de- 
partment and gather from its members all the news I could, 
being always alert for clews that might lead to sensational 
developments. 

At that time there was a sharp rivalry between the ' * Globe ' ' 
and its morning contemporary, the "Pioneer-Press," and the 
reporters on both papers were doing their best to secure ex- 
clusive news, known to them as "scoops," for the publications 
that they represented. 

Late one afternoon in April, about three weeks after I had 
accepted the position on the "Globe," as I was sitting in the 
police station wishing that something unusual might happen, 
information was received by the chief of police that a cyclone 
had swept over the city of St. Cloud, and that there had been 
a terrible loss of life and property. 

I hurried to the "Globe" office, and informed the managing 
editor of what I had heard. He ordered me to go to St. 
Cloud, which was about seventy-five miles distant, on the first 
train that left for that place, and to telegraph the "Globe" all 
the details of the calamity that I could gather. I hastened to 
the depot and found that a special train was being made up to 
carry physicians, surgeons, and reporters to the scene of the 
cyclone. I presented my credentials to the conductor in 
charge of the train and was given transportation. 

It was growing dark when the train pulled out of the depot 
and sped away over the rails on its mission of mercy. A 
heavy thunderstorm had set in. The wind blew a gale and 
drove the rain and hail against the windows and sides of the 
cars. 

The train was given the right of way over all others, and 
but one stop was made on the trip. The engineer was ordered 
to cover the distance as soon as possible, and the cars swayed 



28 OUR BOYS. 

and tottered as they were swiftly dragged over the rails by the 
powerful locomotive. I shall never forget that ride. The en- 
gineer told me afterward that the darkness was so great that 
the light from the powerful lamp at the head of his locomotive 
illumined the rails not more than ten feet ahead of the cow- 
catcher. The trip was made in one hour and a half, which, 
under the circumstances, was considered remarkably quick 
time. 

In passing through the train before it started I found three 
representatives of the "Pioneer-Press" aboard — a discovery 
that gave me great uneasiness, for I was the only representa- 
tive of the ' ' Globe ' ' there, and I did not like the idea of be- 
ing obliged to compete single-handed with three men in a case 
of that kind. But there was no help for it, and I determined 
to do my best to get all the news to the " Globe." 

I thought it very probable that in sweeping through the city 
the cyclone had torn down the telegraph wires and it would be 
almost a miracle if a single line was preserved. If there was 
only one wire in working order I wanted it, and as the train 
rushed through the night I wrote a description of the ride 
nearly a column long, determining to hasten to the telegraph 
office as soon as St. Cloud was reached and file my report, in 
this manner securing a wire and holding it until I could learn 
some facts regarding the work of the cyclone, prepare more 
"copy," and thus keep the wire "hot." I knew that as 
long as I kept " copy" in the hands of the operator to be sent 
no other reporter could get the use of the wire. If there were 
several wires working, and facilities for sending the news were 
equal to the demand, of course there would be no occasion for 
this precaution ; but the interest of the ' ' Globe ' ' demanded 
that I should be prepared for any emergency. 

I never had visited the city of St. Cloud, which was a place o£ 
about ten thousand inhabitants, and it occurred to me, after I 
had finished writing the description of the ride and replaced 
on my head the derby hat that I had used as a writing desk, 
that I should lose a great deal of valuable time in inquiring^ 
the way to the telegraph office. On an occasion like this 
every minute counts heavily. It was very important that I be 



OUR BOYS. 29 

able to go directly from the train to the telegraph office, so I 
asked the conductor what direction I should take from the 
platform of the rear car to reach the office. He told me to go 
eastward from the depot two blocks, turn to the left and go 
two blocks, then turn to the right, and after going a half a 
block I would find the Grand Central Hotel, off the rotunda of 
which opened the telegraph office. 

I fixed these directions firmly in my mind, and as the train 
neared the city I made my way through the crowded aisles of 
the cars to the rear platform of the last coach, and when the 
train had slackened its speed sufficiently to enable me to leap 
off and keep my feet I did so, and alighted in the mud a few 
yards away from the depot platform. 

As fast as I could rUn through the rain and the darkness I 
followed the directions given me by the conductor, and was 
soon at the hotel, excited and breathless. I quickly made my 
way through the crowd that filled the sidewalk, and, opening 
the door of the telegraph office, burst into the room with an 
abruptness that startled the young lady who was busy at a 
table, by the side of which sat a young man rapidly writi-ng 
and piling his manuscript near the young lady's elbow. The 
sight of this young man at the table filled me with apprehen- 
sion, and, hastily crossing the room, I asked the young lady 
if I could get a wire for special correspondence for the press. 
She informed me that I could not ; that all the wires were 
down with the exception of the one that she was working, 
and the local correspondent of the " Pioneer-Press" had filed 
enough copy to keep that wire busy until three o'clock the 
next morning. 

I knew that the " Pioneer- Press " had a correspondent in 
every town and city of any importance in the State, but the 
probability that their St. Cloud correspondent would secure a 
wire as soon as possible after the cyclone had struck the city, 
and if there was but one wire in working order he would have 
it, had not occurred to me. When I fully realized the situa- 
tion I was for a moment nonplussed. 

There was no time to be lost, however, and I soon recovered 
my self-possession sufficiently to inquire of the young lady in 



30 OUR BOYS. 

charge of the office if she could tell me where I could find a 
telegraph operator. She pointed to a young man in the hotel 
office who was leaning on a glass case filled with segars. I 
had determined to get a wire if there was one to be found 
within a radius of ten miles of St. Cloud, but I knew the wire 
would be of no value to me if I could not find an operator. I 
approached the young man pointed out to me and asked him 
to go with me. 

"Who are you?" he asked in surprise. 

" A representative of the press," I replied, "and if you 
come with me it will be money in your p.ocket. Make up 
your mind quickly." 

My suggestion of -money had the desired effect, and as the 
young man walked with me out of the hotel I asked him if he 
knew where I could find a telegraph wire not in use. He sug- 
gested that I might be able to get one at the railway station. 
Fearful that if there had been a clear wire there the ' * Pioneer- 
Press" men had secured it, and with the operator at my heels, 
I ran toward the station. When we arrived there the station 
agent informed me that there was but one wire that could be 
worked, and the damaged condition of the railroad over which 
the storm had swept made it necessary for the train-dispatcher 
to use that wire continually, and it would be in use all night 
and probably the next day. I offered the agent a large sum 
of money if he would allow me to use the wire one hour. I 
begged him to consider the Importance of my getting at least a 
list oi the dead and wounded to the " Globe." He said he 
understood the situation perfectly, but money would not tempt 
him to neglect his duty. While the reply of the agent caused 
my heart to sink within me I could but respect him greatly for 
his firmness. 

In a hurried conversation with the operator I learned that 
about three miles distant there was a station on the Northern 
Pacific Railroad, and that I might possibly secure the train- 
dispatcher's wire there, since that road lay beyond the track 
of the cyclone. 

Together we ran to the nearest livery stable. I was ex- 
ceedingly anxious now, for my only chance of getting a line 



OUR BOYS. 31 

through to the ' ' Globe ' ' that night lay in securing a wire at 
that station, and I had learned that the " Pioneer- Press " re- 
porters were exerting themselves to their utmost to keep me 
from getting a wire, in which event it would be a glorious tri- 
umph for their paper over the " Globe." 

When we reached the stable I ordered the man in charge to 
get me a horse and carriage in the shortest possible time. 

*• Can't have a team, sir," he promptly replied ; " my horses 
have been goin' all day, an' they're completely tired out." 

" Nonsense ; I must have one ! I'll pay you any price you 
ask." 

** This is a sad time with us, sir," said he, apparently struck 
with my earnestness, " an' if it's er case of life or death you 
can have a team, an' 'twon't cost you nothin' ; but don't drive 
the horses harder 'n you can help." 

I assured him that it was an urgent case, and in five minutes 
I was seated in a carriage with the operator by my side, urg- 
ing the weary horses through the mud and rain in the direction 
of the distant railway station. 

Our way out of the city lay by the engine house of the fire 
department, which had been converted into a morgue. I wanted 
to get, if possible, a list of the killed and the injured, and we 
stopped at the door of the engine house. When I entered the 
long, narrow building twenty-one dead bodies lay stretched 
upon the floor as they had been taken from the ruins and 
brought in to be identified. 

As I passed through the doorway I met a man going out, 
and I asked him if it were possible to get the names of the 
people known to have been killed or injured. 

"Are you a newspaper reporter?" he asked. 

I replied that I was. 

'•What paper?" said he. 

"The ' St. Paul Globe,' " I answered. 

" That's the paper I read," he said. "I think I can give 
you some information that will be valuable to you. I am the 
editor of the ' Weekly Times ' here, and have got a complete 
list of the dead and the injured so far as is known up to this 
time." 



32 OUR BOYS. 

Fortune had smiled upon me at last. I copied the list and 
gained from the editor valuable information regarding the 
appearance of the cyclone, the course it had taken, and the 
amount of damage it had done to property. Cautioning the 
editor not to allow himself to fall into the hands of any other 
reporter, I climbed into the carriage and drove away. 

The horse struggled painfully through the mire of the coun- 
try road that was now and then revealed to us by flashes of 
vivid lightning. Occasionally the poor animal would wander 
from the road and stumble along the gutter until brought to a 
standstill by a fence, when the operator or myself would alight 
and lead the bewildered beast back to the beaten track. 

We were nearly an hour on the road when we at last drew 
rein at the station. There was a light burning in the agent's 
office, and with doubtful heart I walked across the platform 
and opened the office door. 

" Have you got a wire in working order? " I inquired of the 
agent, who sat nodding with drowsiness in his chair. 

** You can try the dispatcher's wire, over there," he replied, 
lazily crossing his legs. "I don't know whether the storm 
has affected it." 

"Try it," I said to the operator. 

He stepped to the key and called St. Paul. A minute later 
he told me that the wire was clear and I could send my report 
directly into the telegraph editor's room at the "Globe" 
office. The operator in the telegraph office at St. Paul had 
connected the wire with the special wire that ran into the 
"Globe" building, thus saving considerable time, as the 
sheets containing the report would not have to be carried from 
the telegraph office to the editorial rooms. 

My joy at this discovery was great, and I told the operator to 
prepare for several hours of steady work. With an eye to bus- 
iness, he asked me what compensation I proposed to give him 
for his work. I answered his question by asking what com- 
pensation he expected to receive. 

"Twenty dollars an hour," he replied. 

" It is more than I will pay you," I said. 

At this the operator turned and walked out" of the room, 



34 OUR BOYS. 

saying that he was going back to the city. I would have paid 
him five times the price he demanded rather than to get no re- 
port to my paper ; but he knew he had an advantage of me, 
and I did not intend to pay him the price he asked, if I could 
avoid it. I followed him out on the platform, and said: 

** I will give you five dollars an hour. You know that is pay- 
ing you splendidly for your work." 

"I won't take a cent less than twenty dollars," he re- 
plied. 

" Very well," said I, "I will drive back to town and look 
for an operator who will work cheaper." 

I started toward the carriage, and as I did so the sound of 
galloping horses and excited voices urging them on came to 
my ears. I at once concluded that the "Pioneer-Press" re- 
porters had heard of the station, and were hastening to secure 
the wire if there happened to be one there. It would not do 
to lose a second now, and, turning to the operator, I said : 

" I'll split the difference with you. I'll give you ten dollars 
an hour, with the understanding that you will work as long as 
I ask you to." 

" All right," he replied, much to my surprise. 

I caught his arm and almost dragged him back to the sta- 
tion. Throwing off our coats we sat down, he at the key, I 
by his side. I had written a page of " copy" and he had 
just started to send the date line when, drenched with rain and 
spattered from head to foot with mud, two " Pioneer-Press " 
reporters rushed into the room. They recognized me at once, 
and, putting on a pleasant smile, one of them said: 

" Well, Holmes, you got it, after all." 

I informed them that I was there to stay until the ' * Globe ' * 
went to press the next morning ; and they drove back to the 
city probably more leisurely than they had driven to the station. 

For fear of any accident happening to the wire I carefully 
wrote out the names of the dead and wounded, and sent them 
first, after which I sent a description of the storm and the ter- 
rible work it had done. 

The first word of the report was received at the "Globe" 
office a few minutes past ten o'clock. The wire worked with- 



OUR BOYS. 



35 



out a "hitch " until three o'clock the next morning, and the 
"Globe" gave a seven-column report of the disaster, and 
published the only correct list of the killed and injured, from 
which I inferred that the editor of the ' • Weekly Times ' ' had 
heeded my caution not to allow himself to fall into the hands 
of other reporters. 

I remained five days on the ground, reporting the details of 
the awful work done by the cyclone, whose victims numbered 
one hundred and twelve human beings. 




A UNITED STATES LIFE-SAVING STATION. 



THAT yellow building down by the sea, just back of the 
white sands, shelters the crew and apparatus of one of 
Uncle Sam's Life-saving Stations. 

It has in front a big door, while in the rear, at one cor- 
ner, is a smaller one. The big door flies open only when the 
boat-carriage and other apparatus are to be hurried out. 
Through the other door pass the members of the crew. Let 
us follow one of the crew as, after patrol duty, he enters 
that humble door. It is a day of dreary mist, of rain that 
smites pitilessly all along the sloping beach, and the shelter of 
the life-saving station will be doubly v/elcome. We enter the 
kitchen or living room. It is a small room, simply furnished, 
serving for every kind of purpose save that of sleeping. Be- 
tween two windows stands a big cook stove. An extension 
dining table and chairs complete the furniture of the living 
room. On the wall is a clock stamped "U. S. L. S. S.," 
and near it is a barometer. In one corner is a case marked 
"U. S. L. S. S. Library," and below it hang two patrol lan- 
terns and two sockets for coston signals. Around the walls 
in different places are overcoats, hats, jackets, comforters. 
Upon the door leading outside are tacked various printed cir- 
culars about waterproof dress, time-detectors, marine glasses, 
and other matters of station interest. 

A stairway leading up from this living room takes us to the 



OUR BOYS. 37 

keeper's private quarters and a long room for the crew, with 
comfortable cot beds ranged along its sides. From this long 
room a short stairway climbs up to the scuttle in the roof and 
a railed platform with its flagstaff. Here on fair, cloudless 
days an outlook is maintained, the men on watch duty closely 
inspecting the blue sea to detect any sign of a craft in distress. 
On the way to this outlook we see a box of signal flags to be 
used in communicating with any needy party that can talk 
back after the same fashion. 

In a life-saving station the great magnetic center is the boat 
room. This usually opens directly out of the living room. In 
the center is the surfboat, twenty-six feet long, furnished with 
air chambers at stern and bow. It has a low steering oar 
measuring twenty-two feet. The crew pull six oars. A hint 
of their dangerous service is given in the cork jacket or life- 
preserver lying on each seat. The jacket must be put on be- 
fore the surf man can begin his fight with the breakers. Over 
at the left of the room is the handcart packed for service at 
any moment. It contains a breeches-buoy, which is a large 
cork ring, from which dangle short legs. Whoever the tailor 
that cut those breeches, though he did not consult the fashion 
plate, he shaped legs that would do the needed work. There 
is a Lyle gun for shooting lines to a wreck, and tackle and 
falls, cartridges, pick-ax, shovel, rope. Above the hand- 
cart is a life car. There are air chambers at the ends of the 
car, and in the center is an opening for the admission of pas- 
sengers, called the "manhole." This can be securely closed. 
The car will hold four persons, but if one be fat and big, alas 
for the others ! If a man is going to travel by that car, let 
him go with as little baggage on his bones as possible, or he 
will crowd his neighbors. 

The crew of the station consists of a keeper or captain, and 
six, seven, sometimes eight or more surf men. These are 
hired for what is known as the ' ' active season. ' ' ' ' Neptune" 
can be an exceedingly active force at any time on our rocky 
Atlantic rim, but he flourishes his trident most vigorously, we 
all know, during the months of September and April. The 
keeper carries a responsibility as head all through the yeEr. 




A RE'^CUE WITH T7TE BREECHES-BUOY. 



OUR BOYS. 39 

If in June an accident should happen on the shore he can 
summon his men from the potato fields or fishing boats to which 
they have scattered. The surf men are accepted for their 
knowledge of boating, and are muscular fellows on the sunny- 
side of middle life. 

At the stations night and day are divided into watches. In a 
stormy, winter night, the patrolling of the beach is no holiday 
task. One man equipped with coston signal, lantern, and time- 
detector goes out in one direction ; another patrolman simi- 
larly furnished takes the opposite. Through their watch they 
pace their beat, traversing the shore of sand or rock with its snow, 
ice, and pools of water. Each patiently plods his beat to its 
close, and there, attached by a chain to the wall of a building, is 
a key. This he thrusts into a hole in his "time-detector," turn- 
ing the key with a sharp click. This indicates that a mark 
has been registered on the dial of the detector, showing that the 
patrolman has gone his beat. The next morning the keeper 
opens the detector and removes the dial. It should show 
three marks between eight and twelve corresponding to the 
three journeys of the patrolman, one at fifteen minutes of nine, 
and another at nineteen minutes of ten, and a third at eleven 
o'clock. This man's watch is the second, the first running 
from sunset till eight. The third stretches from twelve till 
four, and the fourth ends at sunrise, or eight, perhaps. Then 
the day watches begin. 

Ugly enough is the patrolman's duty at times. In thought 
follow him bending his head before the storm, at intervals rais- 
ing It to scan the blackness out of which thunders the roar of 
the breakers. The wind threatens to blow out his lantern, and 
he must prevent that. Bowing, hugging his lantern, occasion- 
ally lifting his eyes, he sees, perhaps, an angry curve of fire 
above the sea. "A rocket! a wreck?" he cries. He pulls 
out his coston signal, ignites it, and, waving that answering 
torch of crimson fire, hurries back to the station. He rouses 
the crew. The big door of the boat room is thrown back. 
Out rumbles the carriage, burdened with the surfboat, but 
perhaps nothing can be done with it, and out clatters the hand- 
cart. If the sea is too rough for the surfboat, or other reason 



40 



OUR BOYS. 



forbid its use, the handcart is drawn in a proper position 
on the sands. It is unloaded. The wreck gun is fired, send- 
ing over the wreck a shot to which is attached a line. If that 
line drops down upon the wreck, the shore and ship are quickly 
joined by other apparatus that insures the riding of the breeches- 
buoy to the wreck, bringing off one at a time, or the passage 
of the life car that will transport four, provided they be not 
bulky. 

The disaster may be at such a time and of such a nature 
that the surf boat can be used. There are lifeboats in service 
on the Pacific and the Lakes, but along the Atlantic coast the 
surfboat is preferred. The Florida coasts are peculiar. The 
ingenious coral polyps are the builders of those shores, and in 
a shipwreck the vessel is likely to be thrown up so high that 
the danger to life is not serious ; but there is an after-risk of 
hunger and other discomfort on shores bleak and deserted. 
The life-saving stations there are houses of refuge, occupied 
by a keeper and his family, and to many poor, surf-driven, 
surf-chilled fellows they must be homes of warm, attractive 
shelter. 




HOW TO RUN A BOAT CLUB. 




THERE is a fascinajion about water and boats in them- 
selves, and when to this is added the spirit of loyalty 
to club, crew, or college, boating becomes one of the 
most attractive of pastimes. 

First of all, we will suppose that four boys have 

possession of an ordinary round-bottom, clinker-built 

boat (about eighteen feet long and four feet beam), 

and the right of navigation on a river or lake. The 

jtf ,' four boys above mentioned are at present anxious to 

(f * ^ organize a crew, put their boat in good trim, and 

-.^""^ then learn to handle her in a seamanlike manner. 

We shall try to frame what we have to say in such a 

way as to give these four sturdy young tars the assistance they 

need. 

As to organization, when the numbers are so limited little 
formality will be required. Usually a club of this kind has 
two sets of officers ; one to serve in a parliamentary capacity 







— president, vice president, secretary, treasurer, etc. — the 
other to have charge of the active work, commodore, vice 
commodore, purser, etc. Of course if the club included a 
dozen or so boys and owned a number of boats, perhaps an 
eight-oared barge, this elaborate organization might be neces- 
sary, but we are taking the simplest form of a club, which 
might be organized in hundreds of towns and villages all over 
the country. 

There is a great deal in doing a thing systematically, thor- 
oughly, and in the right way. A touch of discipline is a good 



42 OUR BOYS. 

thing. It is well for a boy to learn to obey implicitly even a 
commander appointed in play. 

Let us contrast two scenes. Four boys come romping down 
to where an ill-kept, leaky boat is moored to a river bank. 
The pleasure seekers tumble into their craft, stepping on the 
seats and struggling to get at the rudder. They push and yell 
and, perhaps, get a little angry. They shout at each other to 
do this and that; they splash with the oars, and clumsily push 
the boat out into the stream. There is no order or discipline, 
and we are glad to lose sight of the squabbling crew around 
the first bend. 

Again, four neatly uniformed young fellows unlock a small 
boathouse and disappear inside. We do not follow them, but 
we hear no sound of conflict. In a few moments a boat is 
pushed carefully out under the water door. One of the crew 
sits at the stern, two others on the rowing seats, and the fourth 
at the bow. The boat is neatly painted and scrupulously clean, 
the brass oarlocks glisten in the sun, and the oars lying along 
the thwarts shine with oil and varnish. As the boat comes out 
into the stream the oarsmen lift their long oars and hold them 
perpendicularly in the air, the handles resting on the bottom 
board. "Let fall!" shouts the captain at the stern. The 
oars drop together into the oarlocks. ** Make ready ! " The 
arms and backs come aft in readiness for the next command, 
" Give way," at which they begin a regular clean-cut stroke, 
and the boat glides away. We are sorry that it rounds the 
curve so soon. 

These outline pictures give us an idea of what we would 
have our four young friends accomplish. The organization 
need take little time. Elect a captain whose word must be law, 
a boatswain next in command, and a purser to take charge of 
the club funds. An appropriate name and uniform will easily 
be found. 

We will suppose that our craft is an ordinary clinker-built 
(or, in less nautical terms — clapboarded) boat about sixteen 
or eighteen feet long and three and a half or four feet broad. 
We have assumed that this boat has seen rough service on river 
or lake, and is shabby as to paint, broken in many places, not 



/ 










" J 



OUR BOYS. 43 

quite dry, and decidedly dirty. It is the mission of our ama- 
teur boat club to rescue her and put her in a 
stanch and trim condition. 

First of all, she must be hauled out . of the 
water at some point where the bank is not too 
high and affords a level space for work. Then 
she must be stripped of everything detachable — 
oarlocks, bottom boards, slats, and seats, if pos- 
sible. Now, she must have a thorough bath. Scrubbing 
brushes and soap used vigorously, and followed by pailfuls of 
water, will soon dislodge the grime and sand from the crevices. 
Then the boat should be half filled with water, rocked for a time, 
and finally turned upside down on a couple of low " horses" 
to drip. This position makes it possible to examine the bottom 
and locate any leaks which need more than heavy coats of 
paint. The boat should be allowed to dry thoroughly, but not 
to stand any length of time in a hot sun to shrink and warp. 

Next, any carpenter work in the form of repairs, new slats, 
seats, etc., should be done. We would say here, that it is 
most important that all splits, breaks, or rough places should 
be carefully attended to, and that no nails or screws should be 
allowed to project. Paint will do much, but it cannot cover 
deficiencies of this kind, nor is it at all seamanlike to do such 
superficial work. The leaks, if they are small, should be 
tightly packed with tow or cotton rags, but broad cracks should 
in addition be covered with thin strips of tin or copper fas- 
tened by small tacks. When all these small jobs, inside and 
out, have received the proper attention, then comes the ques- 
tion of how to paint her. 

We give two or three designs from which our readers may 
make a choice, unless they prefer some original combination. 

1. Outside: Plain white, with a blue stripe, half an inch 
wide, around the top board. Name on the stern. Inside : Lead 
color. Hard wood (if any) scraped, oiled, and varnished. 

2. Outside: Same as No. 1, except the bottom, which is 
painted green below the water line. Inside : Buff, ribs painted 
blue. 

3. Outside: Black, with half -inch stripe of white, red, or 



44 



OUR BOYS. 



gold. Name on bows in small letters. Inside: Pure white, 
hard wood polished (No. 1). 

In No. 1 we have, perhaps, the more common style. It is 
easy to, keep clean inside and is perhaps the best for pleasure 
boats. No. 2 is more fancy, but belongs to the same gen- 
eral type. To our mind No. 3, which is a man-o'-war boat, 
is the most attractive, although the most difficult to keep ship- 
shape. For that very reason, perhaps, it will keep the crew 
steadily at work and give them cause for greater pride in the 
neatness of their boat. The more polished and varnished the 
wood the better. 

As to the quantity of paint, the outside will need two, or 
perhaps three, thick coats. Be careful not to add a second 
coat before the first is thoroughly dry. The inside will require 
two thinner but neatly laid coats. Be sure not to daub the nat- 
ural wood when painting near it. It will be better to employ 
a regular sign painter to put the name on the bow. Do not 
let him use large or fancy letters or add any flourishes. 




In the drawing we have the interior of a well-arranged boat. 
At the stern is a backboard, D, on which the boat's name may 
also be lettered, cushions, CC, accommodating three or four per- 
sons, a lattice-work after-deck or floor, B (made of hard wood, 
oiled and varnished), and foot braces, A A, which move in 
notches and may be adjusted to rowers of different length of 
limb. 

Oarlocks may be divided into two classes: those which 
permit the oars to be " feathered," turned freely in any direc- 
tion; and, second, those which allow only a backward and 
forward hinge motion. 

A shows a simple form of the first class. It consists merely 
of two stout round pins of oak or other heavy wood, fitted 
into two adjacent holes in the gunwale of the boat, and reach- 



OUR BOYS. 



45 



ing down into a second pair of holes in a block fastened below- 
inside. This oarlock is used often in ships' boats and small 
sail craft. It is essentially a " salt water " lock, and is seldom 
found inland. 

The oarlocks B and C are two forms of the most usual and 
perhaps best type. They are made of brass or galvanized 
iron. The latter material is stronger, although the former may 
be given a fine poHsh. These locks fit in iron sockets and 
when well oiled turn easily. Small eyeholes are cast in the 
sides, by means of which cords may be fastened to them. It 
is important to have these cords always secure, as without them 
it is an easy matter to lose a lock. We should advise our 
readers to use this kind of a lock. Show these cuts to the 
local blacksmith, and he will quickly give you a pair of wrought 
iron locks which will stand service. 

D, E, and F are for fixed oars. They 
need little explanation. D is simply an 
iron pin over which the oar fits ; E is 
a wooden or iron pin to which the oar is 
fastened with a piece of rope. This 
type is much used in boats in the Med- 
iterranean seaports, and is employed 
exclusively on the "caiques," or gon- 
dolas, of Constantinople. 

In F we have the form used on most 
river boats in this country. The oar is 
attached to the lock, which pulls out of 
its socket when the former is removed. 
This is a convenient form for lumbermen, 
etc., who have occasion to drop their 
oars suddenly and attend to some other 
task, but for our amateur club we can hardly recommend it as 
"shipshape." As to a rudder, G shows the simple arrange- 
ment. Two long pointed hooks on the rudder fit into eyeholes 
which are screwed to the sternpost. The rudder head may 
be made of hard wood. Handsome crosspieces of open 
iron work, nickel or silver plated, are always to be had. 
Steering lines of stout, white cotton rope are to be preferred to 




46 OUR BOYS. 

colored picture cord. Everything neat, simple, and scrupu- 
lously clean, should be the boat club's motto. 

We shall not consider the many different types of oars, only 
that to be used with the oarlock which we have recommended. 
First of all, the club must decide whether to use two pairs of 
short oars or one pair of long oars. In the former case the 
oars should be of ash, about eight or nine feet long, with well- 
tapered and symmetrical blades. The middle parts, which come 
in contact with the oarlocks, should be covered with leather. 
Very small tacks should be used for this purpose. It is bet- 
ter to let a harness maker sew the collar around the oar and 
then secure it with a few small tacks. 

If the long oars are preferred they should be from eleven 
to twelve feet in length and have long handles, for as each 
oarsman will use only one oar he must have room for both 
hands. 

For long rows and cruising the small oars are better, but for 
spurting in open water the long "pair-oars," as they are 
called, will be found effective. 

For the work of an amateur club, such as we are proposing, 
we should not advise the use of racing sculls or light, fancy 
oars. They are more appropriate for a shell or light barge 
than for a captain's gig on a man-of-war. 

Our boat lies at her moorings, glistening with paint, varnish, 
and polished brass work. The cushions are in place, the rud- 
der ready, and the oars lie along the thwarts (seats). See, 
here come the crew in their new suits — blue blouses, baggy 
trousers, and jaunty hats. They seem like regular salts. Let 
us see how they handle their craft. 

One man stands at the bow and the captain at the stern, 
while the two others step in the boat from the dock. Notice 
that they do not step on the seats, and that they place their 
feet on the middle of the bottom board. Now the captain 
takes his place on the cushion at the stern and grasps the steer- 
ing ropes. 

" Push her off," comes the order. The bowman, who has 
unfastened the painter, shoves the boat out into the stream 
with the boat hook. 



OUR BOYS. 



47 



"Oars up." The rowers take their oars (we are supposing 
a pair-oar, that is, where each man rows one oar) and, rest- 
ing the handles on the bottom board, hold the blades perpen- 
dicularly in the air. 

"Let fall." The oars drop, not too heavily, into the oar- 
locks. 

"Make ready, starboard, go." The rower whose oar is on 
the right side of the boat rows a few strokes. 

" 'Vast starboard." The starboard rower ceases to row, 
his strokes having turned the boat's head from the shore. 

"Ready all." Both rowers 
bend forward as in Fig. 1. The 
backs are straight, the arms 
thrust well out, and the oars 
poised in the air just above the 
water. The man nearest the 
captain is the "stroke," and 
the other oarsman keeps his eye 
fixed on the stroke's neck. 

"Go." At the word the 
oars dip into the water until the 
blades are just covered, and, 
with straight backs and heads 
well up, the rowers swing smart- 
ly back with a snap near the 
beginning until they reach the 
position indicated in Fig. 2. 
They do not lean back so far as 
to make recovery of the up- 
right position difficult. The body 
stops first, and the hands bring 
the oar handle up nearly to the lower part of the chest. 
This movement from Fig. 1 to Fig. 2 is the stroke. Now 
comes the recover. The body remains perfectly still, while 
the hands, depressed a little to raise the blade from the water, 
are thrust quickly forward to their full extent. The body fol- 
lows them easily, and position ( Fig. 1) is recovered. 

This is the essence of a good stroke. We have said nothing 




Fig. 3. 



48 



OUR BOYS. 



of "feathering," which is generally practiced by good oars- 
men. It consists in turning the blade of the oar flat on the 
recover. It is done for several reasons, among which these 
are prominent : 1 . When rowing in a rough or choppy sea the 
oars need not be raised so high;. 2. In pulling against a head 
wind feathering considerably decreases the difficulty of re- 
cover because less surface is exposed; 3. "Feathering" is 
often necessary to steady light racing shells, the oars skipping 
along the surface of the water on the recover. 

"Feathering" is done entirely by the wrist, as shown in Fig. 
3 . At the beginning of the stroke the wrists are held straight, as 
in b, and the oar blade is perpendicular to the water. Toward 
the end of the stroke -the wrist begins to turn toward the rower, 
until at the beginning of the recover it is in the position a, and 
the oar blade is parallel to the water. The wrist keeps this 
position during the recover until, near the end, it begins to 
straighten, reaching position b again in time for the stroke. 

We have given now all the instructions strictly necessary to 
master the stroke. Careful reading of these hints and diligent 
practice will enable the crew to row well and scientifically. 
All that is said of single oars may be applied to pairs, except 
the orders " Oars up" and " Let fall." 





THE STORY OF A GREAT RACE. 



JACK is a Harvard freshman, and a nice fellow too. I've 
always known him, and was always with him until a year 
ago, when he went to college at Harvard and I came to Yale. 
We're friends just the same now, and he went to the Univer- 
sity boat race with me at New London — the eight-oared race 
on the Thames River between Harvard and Yale. 

We went up from New Haven together. Jack, freshman- 
like, had decked himself all over with Harvard's crimson 
colors, and he confessed to me that he felt out of place among 
so much blue ; for I think every person but Jack in those 
seventeen cars had on more or less blue ribbon, and even the 
red smokestack of the locomotive carried a long blue streamer, 
planted there by one of my adventurous classmates. 

Up at New London everything was astir. At the dock 
people were crowding on board of tugs and yachts, and on 
shore they were hurrying toward the grand stand on Winthrop's 
Point, near the finish, or to the "Observation train," We 
followed these last and found a score of platform cars rudely 
fitted with tiers of plank seats and shielded from the sun by 
an awning of white cotton cloth. 

As each of the twenty-four cars held its full number of 
seventy-two persons, we calculated that 1,728 people saw the 
race from the train. This moving grand stand was to be 



50 OUR BOYS 

kept opposite the boats, so that its occupants might see the 
whole race. 

A little after six o'clock we were hauled into position, the 
train was made up, and two engines began pushing and pull- 
ing it out from the dirty railroad yard into the bright green 
country. 

We ran along the Thames shore for four miles to the start- 
ing point. Behind us the hills cut off the slanting beams of 
the low sun, and in front was the broad, blue, rippling river, 
with bobbing flags marking the miles and half miles of the 
racing course. Away down at the finish we could see the 
blackness of a crowd on Winthrop's Point, and before them 
on the water lay anchored a yacht fleet of fifty sail, cleft in 
the middle by a lane two hundred feet wide, through which 
the crews were to dash to the winning post. Ahead of us, on 
the opposite shore, was the navy yard ; still further north were 
the snug quarters of the Harvard men, and further yet a dark 
blue banner marked the boathouse of Yale. Looking ahead, 
as we rounded a curve we caught the rare beauty of our own 
long train^a quarter mile of color — gay with mingled red and 
blue. 

We halted at the starting point and waited, talking over the 
chances of the race and the loveliness of the scene, until after 
seven o'clock. The sun had just set when the eight stalwart 
oarsmen of Harvard paddled across the stream in their narrow 
shell, looking in the distance as if they sat astride a floating 
log. Soon Yale came swinging down stream to her place. 
Two men in skiffs hold the light shells on a line. The boats 
are so near the high bank that we on the train cannot see them. 
We see only a dozen crowded steamers hanging in midstream 
waiting for the word ; we see only the referee as he leans for- 
ward in the bows of the Yale steam launch and shouts in a 
ringing tone to the brown-backed giants under the brow of the 
bluff. 

"Can you hear me, Yale? " ( Yale has the west course and 
is farther from him, but nearer us.) 

"Are you ready? " 

"Go!" 



52 OUR BOYS. 

The crimson oars were the first to dip, and when we saw the 
shells a second later the Harvard boat had poked its tawny- 
nose a foot before the prow of Yale. Then the crowds on sea 
and shore, who had been hushed for a moment in their excite- 
ment, broke loose in a tumultuous shout. Gray-haired men 
yelled with the boys, and I noticed that some of the girls 
screamed too, in their own scared sort of way. Ribbons and 
flags flapped as though a hurricane had struck us. 

The crews were in full view now, the sixteen strong naked 
backs alive with quivering muscles, rising and falling in per- 
fect time. We were making all the noise; they were silent, 
only for the shrill cries of the coxswain and the low orders of 
the stroke. 

We were all yelling at the top of our lungs, and I could feel 
Jack quiver with excitement and his voice was lost in the 
swelling cry of "Harvard!" as the crimson slowly lengthened 
their lead. The boats were moving swiftly, and the train was 
now hurrying along the track over which we had come so 
quietly a few minutes before. 

After two minutes Harvard deased to gain, and by inches 
Yale was making up her loss. I began to pluck up courage. 
My voice was almost gone now, but I would have given my 
last breath to help on that thundering cry of "Yale!" which 
told that the boats were abreast again. 

At the end of the first half mile Yale had the lead, and I 
was calm enough to count the strokes of both crews. Harvard 
was rowing 36, Yale 32 to the minute. But there was no doubt 
that the Yale boat was moving more swiftly than her rival. I 
looked at the two crews. Physically they were well matched ; 
the papers said the Harvard men averaged 160 pounds apiece, 
two pounds more than Yale. There was but one noticeable dif- 
ference in their movement. After the Harvards pulled their 
oars through the water the men "recovered" with a snap, 
rushing aft in the boat with their slides and throwing forward 
their hands and shoulders. This, or something else, broke the 
even motion of their shell and made it pause between 
strokes. The Yale crew " recover" slowly. They hurry their 
hands forward, but move slides and shoulders very gradually. 



OUR BOYS. 53 

Their shell moves steadily on. But the Harvard men gain 
time for four more good strokes in the minute than Yale can 
pull; so her style also has its advantages. 

But I have spent five minutes in studying the crews, and 
Harvard still clings to Yale. They have rowed a mile and a 
half, and the leaders have never yet been far enough ahead to 
show clear water between the boats. So with the shells lapped 
we pass behind Mamacoke, the rocky promontory which for a 
fourth of a mile cuts off our view of the river. We give our 
men ' * three times three ' ' once more before we lose sight of 
them, and the Harvard supporters, still hopeful, if no longer 
confident, answer with an encouraging cheer. Then for two 
endless minutes we saw nothing but the gravelly banks of a 
railway cut. 

We didn't talk much. Jack and I. We hadn't much to say, 
and had very little voice to say it with. So we were silent, 
watching the men on the engine in front. They would be the 
first to see the crews. Both colleges were represented there; 
but it was the blue that leaped into the air as we rounded the 
hill and saw again the river and the straining oarsmen. In a 
second the train caught the omen, and was blue with flags and 
rocking with cheers. 

Two miles, and the boats still lapped ! Could we never shake 
them off, or would they dog us to the last and then row us 
down at the finish? No, they had fought their fight, and 
gradually Yale pulled away. Open water danced between the 
stern of Yale and the bow of Harvard, now at the two-and-a- 
half-mile flag, and the gap grew to three boat lengths, then to 
four. The race was Yale's. Down through the lane of yachts 
and steamers swept the laboring champions, and, only a few 
yards between them and victory. Harvard's gallant crew dashed 
on, fighting to the last, and finishing but fourteen seconds be- 
hind Yale. 

No. 2, of Yale, the youngest fellow in the boat, put his last 
morsel of strength into the final strokes and then fell back 
fainting on the knees of No. 1. But a splash of cold sea- 
water in the face brought him to his senses, and he smiled with 
the rest as the referee announced that Yale had won the race, 



54 OUR BOYS. 

time 22 min. 56 sec, and delivered to the captain the rich 
silken flags, which were the only prize of victory. 

Jack and I made our way quietly back to the city with the 
crowd. The blue was flying everywhere. But I liked the way 
Jack stood by his colors. He said " he was sorry, of course, 
that his crew hadn't won, but he was as proud as ever that he 
was a Harvard man, for it was no disgrace to be beaten in 
such a hard race." 



MODEL YACHTING. 



THE sight of a smooth, clean block of clear white pine sends 
a boy's hand into his pocket in search of a jackknife as 
surely as he has a spark of ingenuity in his make-up. If the 
block is two or three inches wide and a foot long it almost as 
certainly suggests a boat, and ten chances to one the youngster 
will be found for an hour or two thereafter in some out-of-the- 
way corner laboriously whittling his prize into some sort of 
resemblance to a craft that he has seen or of which he has 
heard. He manages tolerably well, perhaps, with one side of 
the bow and with the opposite side of the stern, but when he 
comes to finish off both sides, so that they shall be exactly 
alike fore and aft, his troubles begin, and only end when he 
cuts his finger by an unlucky slip or breaks his knife in trying 
to hollow out the inside. 




F/G-URE /. 

Perhaps, however, he has the use of a set of tools and some 
kind of a shop, and in that case the result of his labors is con- 
siderably more like a real boat, and straightway he proceeds 
to rig it with a mast and sails ; and very likely has no end of 
fun with it, though its sailing powers may be very limited and 
it will only sail in one direction, and not very certainly even in 
that. There is no reason, however, why, with the same 
amount of work, he should not construct a boat that will sail 
reasonably well in any desired direction, and beat any craft of 
her size that is not still better planned and more skillfully con- 
structed. Everybody knows that model yachts are now built 
of large size — six feet or more long — and wonderfully com- 
plete in their fittings and equipment, but with these we will not 
deal at present. 



56 



OUR BOYS. 



Let us suppose that we have a block of white pine about 
three times as long as it is wide, and rather less than half as 
thick as it is wide. To be exact and have figures to follow, 
let us say twenty-one inches long, seven inches wide, and three 
inches deep. If you are not a good enough carpenter to 
square and smooth it nicely find some one to do it for you. A 
lopsided block will make a lopsided boat which will not sail. 
Draw a straight middle line A B, from end to end on top and 



^ 


^ 


D£Cf< ^^"^"^^.^^^ 


^ 


.^ 


^^^^^ 



\^ 






-^^'"'^ 


^^^^^-^^_ 


^ 


-^_____ 


BOTTOM ^ — 







c 




/"/aa/^E 2. 



bottom, and across the ends of the block, meeting the two long 
lines. (See Fig. 1.) 

Take a piece of thick paper or thin cardboard the exact 
size of the block and draw upon it the shape of the deck. To 
make the two edges alike double the paper on the line A B, 
and cut through both thicknesses. (See Fig. 2.) Lay this 
pattern on the block and mark the deck plan, using the edges 
of the paper for a guide. 

Take a similar piece of paper and mark the bottom plan on 
the other side of the block. (See lower plan, Fig. 2.) Next 
take a piece of paper the size of the side of the block and 



OUR BOYS. 



57 



draw upon it a curve like that shown on the side of Fig. 1. 
Cut it out as in the case of the deck and bottom plans, and 
mark the line on both sides of the block itself. 

In drawing these curved lines it will be found very con- 
venient to have a thin, slender strip of wood which when bent 
will form a true curve. Such a strip may be cut from a piece 
of thin stuff such as is used for placing behind framed mirrors, 
or it may be sawed froiti the edge of a three-quarter-inch pine 
board. The curves which it will naturally take are good ones 
to follow. Stout pins or fine wire nails may be driven lightly 
into the wood and the strip bent against them to hold it firmly, 
while drawing the lines. 

Turn the block bottom uppermost, fix it firmly on the bench, 
and begin cutting away the corners until at the middle or cross 
section the block is something like C, Fig. 2. Toward the bow 
and stern the cross sections should be like D, Fig. 2. 

When the parts between the side lines and the bottom lines 
have been trimmed off, cut away all outside of the deck line, 
keeping the block the same size as the deck plan as far down 
as the wood remains. This done the block will look some- 
thing like Fig. 3, the sides being all curved plane surfaces. 




F/GURE 3. 

with an angle separating them along the side line. Now trim 
away these angles carefully, making fair round curves, and 
finish first with coarse and then with fine sandpaper. The 
block will then have become a very fair model of a rather 
broad, shallow boat with a flat floor, to which a keel can be 
attached when the time comes. 

The next operation is hollowing the interior. And this is 
perhaps the most difficult. It ought really to be done before 
shaping the outside, but that requires such careful measure- 
ments that it is probably best for most young builders to shape 
the outside first. It is very encouraging to see something that 



58 OUR BOYS. 

really looks like a boat at an early stage of the work. The 
reason why the hollowing ought to be done first is that the 
block is then regular in shape and can be held firmly in a vise 
or laid flat on the workbench, where it will remain steady 
while working with a gouge. However, as we have shaped 
the outside we must make the best of it. 

A row of three-quarter-inch auger holes two inches deep 
bored along the center line serves as a good guide for the 
gouge. Aim to make the sides half an inch thick, except 
near the bow and stern and along the bottom, where they 
should be thicker for strength. At first free strokes may be 
made with the gouge, working from the ends toward the 
middle ; but when the thickness is reduced to about an inch 
more, care must be taken and the thickness must be constantly 
tested by feeling with the thumb and finger. It is possible, of 
course, to make the sides thinner than half an inch by careful 
work. If in spite of all care the gouge cuts through, two 
courses are open to the builder. Get a new block and begin 
over again, or cut away around the hole till the edges are half 
an inch thick, and then fit in a piece of wood as accurately as 
possible, covering all the edges with glue. Marine glue is best, 
but that is not easy to obtain in this country. Common glue 
will do very well, as the hole is to be painted over inside and 
out. Of course the mended place must be left twenty-four 
hours to dry before trimming ofE the projecting parts of the 
plug, but work may continue on the rest of the interior, and 
the keel may be set in place. 

This last should be half an inch thick and about two inches 
wide at the deepest part, near the stern. From a point about 
six inches from the stern it should narrow to nothing at the 
bow. The width given is greater than necessary, since it can 
easily be trimmed down if desired. Fasten it from the inside 
with three or four long, slender screws passing through the 
bottom from the inside. 

The deck is of pine, one quarter or one eighth of an inch 
thick. Turn the boat upside down upon it and mark the shape 
with a pencil. Cut it out, leaving a little to spare. Nail it to 
the gunwales with three or four fine wire nails on each side. 



OUR BOYS. 59 

but do not drive the nails home, as the deck will have to be 
removed before being finally fastened in place. Trim off the 
edges and sandpaper them till they are fair with the sides all 
round. 

Cut a circular or oval opening in the middle of the deck 
large enough to admit the hand, and save the piece that is cut 
out for a hatch cover. It will be quite a close fit if neatly cut 
out, and a piece of the same material cut a little larger" and 
nailed to it with fine brass wire nails, and with a coat of paint 
or glue between the two pieces, will make a very satisfactory 
hatch. 

When all is done give the whole interior, including the under 
side of the deck, a coat of paint or three coats of brown shellac 
varnish. A great advantage of shellac is that it dries in a few 
minutes, and, while it is not quite so brilliant as coach varnish, 
is good enough for most purposes. The outside may as well 
be painted or varnished at the same time, and then both can 
dry together. 

The best material for sails is fine white muslin, a yard of 
which may be purchased for a few cents. The sloop or cutter 
is the handiest rig, and that is accordmgly described, though 
a schooner rig may be made on the same general principles. 

Now, one may guess at the relations of sails and hull, and 
may, perhaps, make a lucky hit and get them nearly right, but 
it is quite easy to make a sure thing of it by a few simple rules. 
There are two points in every sailing vessel that must be known 
before she will sail properly; namely, the "center of lateral 
resistance" of the hull, and the "center of effort" of the 
sails. 

You will need two or three bags of ballast, weighing, say, 
a quarter of a pound apiece. Have them small enough to go 
through the hatch. Shot is the best ballast, but sand or small 
stones will do. Bags are desirable because they will not shift 
easily if the boat keels over. A lead keel is best of all, but 
that is more trouble to make, so inside ballast is recommended. 
Place the ballast so that the boat will float with the bow rather 
higher out of water than the stern, and then with a stick try to 
push her gently sidewise through the water. A few trials will 



60 



OUR BOYS. 



show the point where she balances — namely, the center of 
lateral resistance. Make a mark where the stick rests, so that 
you will always know where this center is. 

Next draw the sails on a piece of stifE cardboard and cut 
out the irregular figure that includes them both. (See Fig. 4.) 




PATTERN. 




FIG-URE 4. 



SAIL PLAN 



From this cut out a narrow space representing the space 
between the two sails. Stretch a cord tightly between the two 
fixed points and balance the cardboard sail pattern upon it, 
taking care that the forward edge of the mainsail is parallel, or 
nearly -so, to the edge. Mark the line upon which the pattern 
balances (dotted line. Fig. 4). Somewhere it passes through 
the center of effort, and that is enough for present purposes. 
Now take the pattern and hold it upright on the deck in the 
position that will be occupied by the real sails, and move it till 
the center of efEort is exactly over the center of lateral resist- 
ance. Then you can mark the place where the mast should be 
stepped and see how long the bowsprit must be. If you do 
not like the look of the sails when the two centers correspond 
you can shift the center of effort aft by increasing the width of 
the mainsail, or forward by increasing the size of the foresail; 
or you can shift the center of lateral resistance by moving bal- 
last or by trimming away the keel, as may seem necessary. 
At any rate bring the two centers as nearly as possible one 
above the other. 

When this is done cut the sail patterns apart and use them 
to mark out the shape of the sails on the muslin. The foremost 
edge (the " luff," as the sailors call it) of the foresail should 
be on the selvage of the muslin, and so, too, the aftermost 
edge (or "leech") of the mainsail. These are the two edges 



OUR BOYS. 61 

most likely to stretch. Allow enough material for turning in 
a hem on all the edges. 

The mast should be about half an inch in diameter for a 
twenty-one-inch model, and about two feet long from foot to 
truck. The other spars are slightly smaller, and all are 
tapered a little toward the outer end. The spar at the foot 
of the mainsail is called the "boom," and that at the head 
the "gaff." It is a good plan also to have a light boom at 
the foot of the foresail. Small hooks maybe screwed into 
the ends of the gaff and booms, which hook into small screw 
eyes set in masts and bowsprit. 

The sails are laced to the spars with needle and thread, and 
the foresail is in like manner attached to the forestay and to 
its own boom. 

The rigging is best made of small fishing line, and to set it 
tip so that it can readily be taken down a number of small 
brass hooks are convenient. These may be made of wire, or 
the ordinary hooks and eyes of the shops may be made to 
answer. It is very convenient to be able to take everything to 
pieces so that the boat can be more easily carried. 

The mast is stepped simply by boring a half-inch hole in 
the deck and another in the block of wood screwed to the bot- 
tom inside. To step the bowsprit, set a half-inch screw eye 
at the extreme bow and a smaller one on the deck three or four 
inches nearer the mast. This should pass through the deck 
into a cleat on its under side, and the keel of the bowsprit 
should be cut to fit this smaller screw eye and project half an 
inch beyond it. 

The bowsprit is held in place by the "bobstay," the line 
passing from the bowsprit end to a screw eye set in the cut- 
water near the water line. It is made fast to the bowsprit and 
hooked into the screw eye. The "forestay" is also made 
fast to the bowsprit and hooked to the masthead. It should 
be made so short that when fastened the mast will bend slightly 
forward. Probably the forestay will be enough to prevent the 
mast from jumping out of its step, but if not, side stays may 
be made fast to the mast head and hooked to screw eyes 
set in the gunwales nearly opposite the mast. The halyard 




I 



OUR BOYS. ■ 63 

which holds up the gaff is hooked to the mast and made fast 
to the gaff. 

The sails are regulated by means of lines called " sheets," 
which are made fast to the booms and carry a small ring on 
the other end, which runs upon a wire stretched across the 
deck, say, quarter of an inch above it at the points marked 
A B in Fig. 5. Small screw eyes may be set in the deck or 
gunwales to support these wires, which are called "horses." 
The rings are ' ' travelers . ' ' 

The boat is now ready for service. She might be made 
prettier and more graceful in many ways, but she should give 
a fairly good account of herself on any point of sailing. It is 
impossible to tell beforehand how any boat is going to behave. 
She may need to have her ballast shifted toward bow or stern. 
She may sail better on one tack than on the other; many 
large craft do that ; and all vessels have little peculiarities that 
can only be found out by becoming intimately acquainted with 
them. 

A great deal of ingenuity has been expended upon contriv- 
ing models and sail plans that will steer themselves, and some 
skillful builders dispense with rudders altogether. They claim 
that their boats will go in any direction if the sails are prop- 
erly trimmed. It is better, however, to have a rudder. The 
simplest form for our model is seen in Fig. 5, two screw eyes 
being set in the stern post and keel, and two corresponding . 
hooks, or "pintles," in the rudder. If, however, an over- 
hang stern is preferred the rudder must be made with a round 
post which fits into a hole bored upward on a line with the 
stern post through the overhang of the stern. The rudder 
post may be tapered, in which case the hole must be tapered 
also. It may be bored with an ordinary bit and reamed out 
so that it will be largest at the lower end. This is done so 
that the rudder can be pushed in tightly enough to stay in any 
position in which it is set. It must be remembered, however, 
that the wood will swell as soon as it is wet, and if pushed in 
too tightly at first it may become so firmly set that you cannot 
get it out until it dries and shrinks. Another way is to make 
the rudder post without a taper and long enough to reach up 



64 OUR BOYS. 

through the deck. Such a one should fit loosely enough in its 
case to turn easily whether wet or dry. 

At the head of the rudder post is fitted a slender handle, or 
tiller, in such a manner that whatever the position of the rud- 
der its end will press firmly upon the deck. A row of pins is 
set crosswise of the deck (brass wire nails are as good as any- 
thing), and by springing the tiller upward and letting it down 
between any two of these pins it will hold the rudder at any 
given angle. 

A more scientific way is to have a self-acting rudder, one 
that is made partly of lead, so that when the boat leans over 
to one side the rudder will swing of its own weight to the same 
side. Some model- yachtsmen have a set of several differ- 
ently weighted rudders to use in winds of different strength. 
If the self-acting rudder is tried it is best to make it rather 
broad and have a good solid strip of lead at the aftermost edge. 
A still easier way, however, is to let the tiller project aft from 
the rudder head (see Fig. 5) and have a leaden weight fitted 
to it which can be moved back and forth on the tiller, accord- 
ing to the amount of helm required. The tiller may be made 
of a piece of stiff brass wire, and the leaden weight may be 
fastened at any point by a small wedge or plug of wood thrust 
into the hole through which the wire passes. The best way of 
all is to have a screw thread turned on the wire or to buy a 
brass rod with a thread turned upon it. 

A number of trials will have to be made before you can tell 
with certainty how much or how little helm will be required 
with a given wind. The point to be aimed at is so to adjust 
the helm that the boat will sail as long as possible on one tack 
without going about. As all winds are more or less variable 
it is usually necessary to give her rather more helm than she 
really needs to bring out her best speed. 

The general courses which a boat may sail are four in 
number : 

1. Close hauled — that is, with her bow pointed as nearly 
as possible in the direction from which the wind comes. 

2. On a reach — that is, with the wind blowing more or less 
directly against her side. 



OUR BOYS. 65 

3. With a free wind — that is, blowing from behind, but not 
directly astern, 

4. Before the wind. 

In the first instance the mainsail must be sheeted in rather 
close, and the forestay sail a little less close. Start her off on 
either tack and watch her behavior. If she shows a tendency 
to fall off — that is, present the broadsides of her sails more and 
more squarely to the wind — she has too much helm ; but if, on 
the contrary, she keeps coming up into the wind and shaking 
her sails she has too little helm, and must be treated accord- 
ingly. 

On a "reach" the sheets are slacked away till the booms 
form an angle of about thirty degrees with the hull. On this 
course she will require more helm than when close hauled. 

With the wind free, or on the quarter, the booms are slacked 
away to an angle of about forty-five degrees and still more 
helm provided. 

Before the wind the main boom is at a right angle with the 
hull and may very likely require to be held in that position by 
means of a line passing forward and known as the " boom 
tackle." Give her all the helm possible, for on this course the 
tendency is very strong to shoot up into the wind. This may 
sometimes be corrected by booming out the forestay sail on 
the opposite side from the mainsail. To do this another light 
spar is required, one end of which is attached by means of a 
hook to the after end of the forestay sail boom, while the other 
end is in like manner fastened to some point on the gunwale. 
With the sails arranged in this manner the boat should be very 
fast down the wind, but it is not always easy to make her do 
it until her habits are well understood. 

There are ingenious and elaborate devices for self- steering 
boats, whereby the main sheet is attached to the tiller and the 
action of the rudder becomes more or less powerful according 
to the pressure of the wind upon the sail. These devices re- 
quire such nice adjustment that a description is not attempted. 

The places to see model yachts in their greatest perfection 
are probably Prospect Park, in Brooklyn, N. Y., and Central 
Park, in New York city. On the lakes in these parks of a 



66 



OUR BOYS. 



Saturaay afternoon one may generally find a very considerable 
fleet afloat, some of them almost large enough to carry their 
owners and requiring two men in a rowboat to manage them 
and prevent accidents. Such vessels are very pretty and 
scientific, but they are a great bother, and for most people are 
not half so much fun as a boat less than two feet long such as 
has been here described. 

The pursuit of model yachting as a sport and recreation, 
not only for boys but for grown-up men who love the water, is 
becoming more popular every year, and the model yacht fleet 
in America is setting a noble example to the navy of the 
United States. Model steam yachts are already in demand, 
and ironclads with ramming arrangements and electric lights 
are only a question of time. 




A GREAT YACHT RACE. 



IF Queen Elizabeth was frightened at the approach of the 
Spanish Armada, how, we wonder, would she have re- 
garded such a flotilla as crowded New York harbor ? Majestic 
ocean steamships, great, white Hudson River boats, harbor 
excursion steamers, trim yachts with shining paint and bur- 
nished brass, tugs, rowboats, and everything else that floats, 
even a reckless United States naval cutter, crowded around 
two snowy mountains of canvas, the "Volunteer" and the 
"Thistle." Here were the Goulds, the Astors, and the Van- 
derbilts, in their costly private yachts, and the Joneses, 
Browns, and Smiths, apparently just as happy in their dingy, 
wheezy tugs or crowded steamers. So closely massed were 
the craft that one could easily imagine that a second Xerxes 
had thrown a bridge of boats across a western Hellespont. 
The black smoke and blue steam from 
hundreds of vessels rose in beautiful con- 
trasts, and thousands of flags and stream- 
ers floated in the almost breathless air. 

" Is there going to be any wind?" is 
the anxious question all over the fleet. 
Old salts knowingly scan the sky and 
dubiously shake their heads. The flags 
flutter feebly, the yachts' sails are flat 
and lifeless. It is noon. Suddenly a 
slight breeze straightens out the flags, a 
gun fires, the "Volunteer" and "Thistle" 
swarm with sailors, up come the anchors, 
the Scotch boat rounds to, begins to feel 
the air, and she moves off like a huge 
bird. The "Volunteer" soon follows, 
but is much more sluggish than her black- 
hulled rival, who turns and wheels with the America's cup. 
marvelous ease. The Scots are jubilant, and the bagpipes 
play. Softly, Caledonian friends, that famous centerboard is 




68 OUR BOYS. 

not down yet. The yachts tack back and forth until the last 
gun fires, when they make for the starting line. The 
" Thistle " crosses first amid a perfect pandemonium of 
whistles, great and small, deep and shrill; the "Volunteer" 
is close behind, sluggish no longer. Like a race, horse she 
leaps after her rival. What, do the bagpipes falter? The 
Yankee is gaining on the canny Scot. The "Thistle" goes 
about toward Long Island, but the "Volunteer " keeps on her 
way. It is an unlucky move for the Scotch skipper. He finds 
himself in a dead calm, while the "Volunteer" is skimming 




SHEER PLAN OF THE "THISTLE." 

away toward Sandy Hook. At last he escapes and begins a 
hopeless chase. The race is really over now. The Boston 
boat is showing a clean pair of heels to the cutter from the 
Clyde. 

And now while the yachts are on their way to Sandy Hook 
let us see what the race means. Why are these two boats, 
costing thousands of dollars, and built especially for this race, 
chasing each other down New York harbor, while England and 
the United States wait breathlessly for news of the result? 

In August, 1851, at Cowes, England, the Yankee schooner 
"America" won what was then known as the "Queen's 
Cup," but has since been called the "America's Cup." In 
1857 the owner of the "America" gave the cup to the New 
York Yacht Club on condition that it should be a perpetual 
challenge cup — that is, that under certain rules any foreign 
yacht could try to win the trophy. Six unsuccessful attempts 
have been made by England to recover this coveted cup, and 
let us trust that the efforts of the future will be equally 
fruitless. 

But to return to the race. The " procession," as the wags 



OUR BOYS. 



69 



term it, is still going on in the same order, and there is no 
danger of it being reversed. The "Volunteer" has passed 
Sandy Hook and is flying out toward the lightship, eight miles 
away on the broad Atlantic. The great fleet rush after her, 
and the "Thistle" is left two miles in the rear. As the 
steamers sweep out into the open sea an elated and inebriated 
fellow-passenger wisely remarks, " It takes a big ocean to 
hold all these boats." This gives, perhaps, an exaggerated 
idea of the flotilla, but it was large enough for the harbor if it 
didn't occupy the entire surface of the Atlantic. Soon the 




THE "volunteer." 



70 



OUR BOYS. 




THE "THISTLE. 



white sloop rounds the lightship and scampers for home like a 
frightened gull. But she has no cause for alarm. It is twenty 
minutes before the * ' Thistle ' ' arrives and begins the hopeless 
chase. Once inside the Hook the " Volunteer " turns toward 
the Narrows, and has a straight course before the wind to the 
finish line. See, her men who have been lying flat on deck 
are " up and at it." A spar swings out to starboard, a white 
sail flutters for a moment, swells into a lovely curve and the 
" spinnaker " is set. Could there be a more glorious sight? 
The huge mainsail on one side, balanced by the snowy 



OUR BOYS. 71 

spinnaker on the other, a great topsail surmounting both, the 
whole aglow with the ruddy light of the sinking sun. The 
steamers and yachts have formed a broad avenue all the way 
to the finish. Along this waterway the proud boat glides like 
a triumphant Roman general entering the imperial city. But 
no Caesar ever had such an ovation of steam whistles, shouts, 
and cannon as greeted the great white sloop as she majestic- 
ally crossed the line and calmly furled her sails. The captains 
hung on their whistle cords, the people yelled and cheered and 
tossed their hats and went wild with excitement. The first 
race was ours, and whatever the final result we cannot forget 
the triumph of that moment. Nineteen minutes later the 
*' Thistle " received a warm welcome — much warmer, in fact, 
than she would have found had she come in ahead. The first 
race is over. We have met the enemy and they are lOurs. 
There is a bad leak in the bagpipes. 

The second day's race was twenty miles out to sea and re- 
turn, starting from the Scotland Lightship. The " Volunteer" 
gained an immediate advantage, which she maintained to the 
finish, winning in magnificent style by eleven minutes. There 
was plenty of wind, and no interference on the part of steam- 
ers. The race was fair and decisive. The "America's 
Cup " was safe. 



A YOUNG PHOTOGRAPHER. 



TOM WOOD was a grammar school boy of fifteen, with a 
bright eye, a clear brain, and a thirst for experimental 
knowledge. The pictorial instinct which is first betrayed in 
scrawls upon the slate which need a label to indicate definitely 
the purpose of the limner, and which is afterward developed 
by practice of the school drawing lessons, was a prominent 
feature of Tom's mental outfit. His sketches and caricatures 
revealed the inspiration of the true artist, and his more careful 
studies carried up the percentage of his class in the exami- 
nations and were a prominent factor in the average hope of 
promotion. 

The love of doing and making things, and the passion for 
finding things out, are usually coupled with a creditable degree 
of skill in the use of tools and a fair endowment of what the 
Down Easter calls " gumption." 

Tom was that way himself. In all that pertains to deftness 
with the jackknife he was a past master. He had dabbled in 
such branches of chemistry and optics as are within the reach 
of a boy of limited income, until his friend Joe Hardy, who 
adds to his already brilliant repertory of words an occasional 
French expression, spoke of him as "quite mtfait in such 
matters." 

The epidemic of amateur photography, which has numbered 
so many victims, unhesitatingly marked Tom for its own. Here 
was a process which, instead of a feebly attempted copy of 
nature, gives us nature itself, with every gradation of light and 
shade and every detail of form and texture. It was so admi- 
rable in its methods and so perfect in its result sas compared 
with the best efforts of his pencil that his soul yearned to pos- 
sess its secrets and perform its miracles. But how? 

A catalogue of the appliances by which the necromancy was 
to be accomplished was sent in return for a small remittance 
in stamps forwarded by Tom and Joe, and the twain eagerly 
perused its contents. A brief study revealed the fact that an 



OUR BOYS. 73 

outfit would cost ten dollars, and as the sum was many times the 
amount of their combined funds they were in despair. It 
could not be done. 

Still their interest in the subject incited them to continue the 
perusal of the pamphlet, and they were rewarded by finding a 
description of the process, which, with its plain formulas and 
definite directions, was simplicity itself. Anybody could do 
it if he only had the apparatus ; but the obstacle seemed in- 
surmountable. 

Tom studied the problem by day and dreamed of it at 
night. He knew something of the laws which govern the re- 
fraction of light, as illustrated by the burning glass or his 
grandmother's spectacles. The essential features of the 
photographic camera seemed to be a darkened chamber (in 
fact, as his philological friend Joe assured him, the full name 
" camera obscura " meant precisely this), a small aperture on 
the side nearest to the object to be " taken," and a place to 
put the picture plates in focus. His bedroom window looked 
out upon the red woodhouse, the new carriage house, the 
grape arbor, and orchard, while a thousand feet distant was 
the domicile and outbuildings of the Hardys, and, still 
beyond, the hills and the sky. Why not darken the window 
and make a camera of the bedroom? Jiminy! It was just 
the thing ! 

They studied the catalogue again and found that a box of 
one dozen 4x5 dry plates already sensitized could be bought 
for ninety cents, and though the raising of this amount might 
require some good financiering they were sure they could man- 
age it, and Tom believed himself capable of solving any 
merely mechanical problems that might present themselves. 
Luckily it was vacation, and they could command the neces- 
sary time. 

In the first place they fitted a board a foot wide across the 
bottom of the window, and in the middle they bored a one- 
inch hole, blackening its interior to prevent the reflection of 
any stray rays of light. On the outside of the hole they fas- 
tened a piece of sheet lead, in the center of which was a round 
aperture of one quarter inch in diameter. Against the inner 



74 



OUR BOYS. 



c 




side of the hole they secured a spectacle glass, taken from a 
pair of grandmother's the nosebridge of which had been 
broken. Tom explained to Joe that this was the lens, while 
the hole in the board was the lens tube, and the piece of lead 
the diaphragm or ' ' stop ' ' of which they had read in the much- 
perused catalogue. 

Tom next proceeded to cut a hole five inches square in the 
board at one side, and to cover it with red 
paper. " This," said he to Joe, " is my red 
lantern. You know it says that the box of 
plates must be opened * only in red light, ' 
and not too much of that; but I guess the 
two thicknesses of this paper will make it 
safe enough." He then arranged a flap of 
cardboard with a cloth hinge, so that the red 
light could be shut out when desired, and 
covered the top of the window with shawls 
and quilts till not a ray of light could pene- 
trate it. 

As the demonstration of the experiment 
drew nearer the two boys were in a glow of expectancy. The 
screen of red paper was found to diffuse a glow of rosy light 
on everything within range, and was pronounced just the 
thing. This was shut off and the room was absolutely dark, 
excepting the beam of white light that came in through the 
lens. The grand test was now to be made, and Tom actually 
trembled with excitement. A piece of white paper was held 
just back of the lens, and a round spot of white light was seen 
upon it. They were disappointed. As they drew the paper 
away, however, traces of color and form began to show, and 
when at a distance of about twelve- inches, wonder of wonders ! 
there was the picture, clear and distinct, in all the beautiful 
tints of nature ! Soft, fleecy clouds were drifting across the 
lovely blue of the sky, the green trees were waving in a fresh 
breeze, the distant hills were hazily outlined against the hori- 
zon, and everything was as perfect as nature itself! It was 
bottom up, but that didn't matter. The apparatus was perfect 
so far as that particular view was concerned, and the boys felt 



Fig. \.—.4, tube ; B 
diaphragm ; C, lens. 



OUR BOYS. 



75 



that they were well repaid for their trouble, even if they never 
made a photograph. The experiment had furnished fun 
enough for one day and a basis for a series of highly ornate 
and picturesque dreams that night. 

The cost of the chemicals was by no means formidable. 
Tom knew a druggist who let him have such things at about 
the cost price. A quarter of a pound of oxalate of potash 
cost ten cents, four ounces of copperas two cents, and the 
same quantity of hyposulphite of soda another two cents. 
These were purchased the next day and the chemical outfit was 
complete. Tom took two round vials, a big and a little one, 
cut off the top just below the neck with one of those glass-cut- 
ters you buy at the corner of Fulton Market for ten cents, and 
pasted a strip of paper the whole length of each. He then 
borrowed the druggist's graduate and poured into the vials 
different quantities of water, marking the paper the height to 
which the vial was filled by each, and when he got through he 
had two accurate measures for 
liquids — one for ounces and the 
other for drams. 

On reaching home he put the 
four ounces of oxalate into a bottle, 
added one pint of water, and shook 
it occasionally until dissolved. The 
four ounces of copperas were put 
in another bottle with one pint of 
water, and the hyposulphite was 
dissolved in one and a half pints of 
water. As the plates were small 
any table utensils of six inches or 
more in diameter would answer for developing-trays- 
dinner plates, for instance. 

The plates had been bought in the meantime, and all was 
ready. Two ounces of the oxalate solution were measured, 
and poured into a tumbler, and three drams of the copperas 
solution were added to it. The combined liquid changed in- 
stantly to a deep orange red. This was the developer. Two 
ounces of the hypo solution were poured into another tumbler, 




Fig. 2. 



-large 



76 



OUR BOYS. 



^ 



'A 



and both were taken, with the two dishes and the box of 

plates, into the bedroom. 

A table of the same height as the lens was moved in front 

of the window, and on the table was placed a frame having 

two grooved uprights 
for holding the 4x5 
plates in position. In 
constructing this Tom 
had used a piece of 
cardboard of the same 
size as the plate, and 
this was now in the 
grooves. A flap was 
fitted over the lens so 
as to shut off its light 
when necessary, and the 
window was darkened. 



Fig. 3. 



-A, lens aperture ; B, rack for holding 
card and plate. 



The rack carrying the white card was now slid on the table 
until the image of the outside landscape was perfectly sharp 
and clear, and the rack was fastened in place. The light from 
the lens was shut off and the red light let on. The box of 
plates was opened and a plate put in the rack, with the dull 
or gelatine side next the window. Now comes the vital test of 
the experiment ! 

The light from the lens is let on for just three seconds and 
again shut off. The plate is put in the dish and the developer 
poured on it, and it is rocked back and forth so that the liquid 
flows evenly over its surface. For a few seconds the boys 
watch the surface of the plate with breathless attention. It 
looks perfectly plain, and, by the red light, of a delicate pink 
color. For the first ten seconds nothing appears, then a dark 
patch spreads over the top, then the outline of the nearer 
buildings comes out, with windows, doors, and other detail. 
The boys are enraptured. The distant hills grow darker and 
merge into the sky. The foliage takes form, and the whole 
seems turning gray, and, as this is the stage at which, accord- 
ing to the directions, the development should stop, the solu- 
tion is turned back into the tumbler, the plate rinsed with 



OUR BOYS. 77 

water from the pitcher, and then the hypo solution is poured 
over it. 

The effect of the hypo was singular. The milky and trans- 
lucent coating of the plate (it was not really pink, that was 
the effect of the red light) slowly became transparent, ex- 
cepting the dark parts which made the picture. It was a 
"negative," sure enough. The parts that were light in the 
view were black in the negative, while those that were dark 
showed nearly or quite transparent, while all between were 
represented by variously graded half-tints. 

When Tom held up the cleared plate to the red light he went 
into ecstasies over the result. He knew now that it could be 
carried out into daylight, as the hypo had dissolved out all the 
silver salts that had given light sensitiveness to the film. All 
that remained to do was to wash the plate thoroughly and dry 
it, when it would be ready to print from. 

The simplest kind of printing is the ferrocyanide, or 
"blue print," such as you have seen in the show cases of 
dealers in mathematical Instruments. The photograph supply 
dealers sell a nice printing frame for fifty or sixty cents, but 
our boys had already exhausted their funds. So they Impro- 
vised a frame in this way: They took a pane of glass, cut 
with the ten-cent glass-cutter, an Inch wider on each side than 
the negative, or 6x7 inches, and having cut a half-Inch 
board to the same size they glued upon one face of it a piece 
of canton flannel. First they laid the glass on the table, on 
this the negative, gelatine side up, then a 4x5 piece of 
the ferrocyanide paper (purchased from the dealer), yellow 
side down, and lastly the board, with the flannel next the 
paper. The four were then fastened together by four spring 
clothespins at the corners. Next the affair was placed in the 
sunshine for ten minutes or more, glass side up. By the end 
of this time the picture should be printed, and It was taken in 
out of the sun, released from the clamp, washed in plenty of 
water, and dried. When thus finished it was a beautiful view 
in blue and white, which delighted not only the Wood and 
Hardy families, but all the neighbors, and earned for Tom and 
Joe the reputation of being the smartest boys in town. 



78 OUR BOYS. 

The ferrocyanide, or "blue print," is a very attractive 
picture, as Tom explained to Joe; the color is a beautiful 
Prussian blue, lovely in tint and absolutely permanent. 

Every bright boy of fifteen ought to know that the root, fen 
means "iron;" but not everyone knows, as Tom did, that 
Prussic acid is hydrocyanic acid, and that this particular com- 
bination of iron and cyanide is the color whose commercial 
name we just mentioned. 

Joe remembered that prussic acid was * * that poison stuff I 
read about a while ago. The book says that its toxicant 
action " (a good word for our philologist) " is so sudden and 
powerful that a drop of it placed on the tongue of a dog will 
kill a man in five minutes/' 

"I guess you mean the dog, don't you?" said Tom. 

"Well, yes," said Joe, thoughtfully, "I guess it was the 
dog, come to think of it." 

As I said before, the pictures were charming. The tones 
varied from a dense indigo to the tints of the sky on a perfect 
June morning, while at the other end of the scale the high 
lights were a pure white. The boys were enchanted with their 
success, and the prints were exhibited with a perceptible glow 
of pride and satisfaction to an admiring circle of friends and 
relatives. 

Tom's father was a well-to-do farmer, the chairman of the 
school committee, and a believer in educational progress. As 
he examined the pictures, the result of perseverance and in- 
genuity as well as of artistic taste, his face betrayed his 
sympathy with the artist and his admiration of the work. He 
remembered how his father, thirty years before, had repressed 
with a strong hand his own artistic efforts and longings, and 
the feeling — almost aversion — that he felt toward him for 
years, and had hardly yet outgrown. His own boy should be 
encouraged and assisted, instead of being censured and re- 
pulsed, and he would enjoy his success as if it were his own. 

"Boys," said he, "you have done something so wonder- 
ful that it seem.s to me almost like a miracle. The pictures 
are really excellent, and I want to patronize you. What will 
you charge me for a dozen of them?" 



OUR BOYS. 79 

The possibility of the intrusion of a commercial problem 
of this nature had not occurred to our young friends, and 
they were unprepared to answer. 

"Well," said he, "I will give you three dollars for a dozen 
as soon as you get them done." 

The boys were delighted to receive so practical an evidence 
of appreciation and so welcome an addition to their financial 
resources, and they accepted the proposition of Mr. Wood 
with profuse thanks and the assurance that they " really didn't 
expect any such good luck." 

As the next day was Saturday, and the sun shone clear and 
bright, the prints were made and the cash turned into the 
treasury. 

In a country place like Byfield intelligence spreads rapidly, 
and it did not take many hours for the circulation of the main 
facts among the boys and even the elder people. Among the 
admirers of the work was an aunt of Tom's who was in 
ecstasies over the accomplishment of her young nephew. 

"I want you," said she, "to make a picture of my house 
just like this, and I will pay you the same price and send you 
lots of customers besides." 

Here was a serious dilemma. Aunt Alice's cottage was a 
mile away and could not be moved over and got in range of 
the little aperture in Tom's bedroom window, nor could the 
Woods' domicile be carried around to this or the other local- 
ities where views were waiting to be made. 

Tom was in a quandary, but he had no idea of being van- 
quished by the difficulties that at first seemed insurmountable. 
He was silent and thoughtful for a few days, and for as many 
nights he cheated himself of sleep to think it over. 

At last the idea which had so long evaded his mental grasp 
downed upon him, and he was enraptured. The proverbial 
kitten with the dual caudal appendage, or old Euclid with his 
" Prop. 11th, 4th book," could not have been more thoroughly 
pleased. He could hardly wait till morning to impart the de- 
tails of his plan to Joe and commence the construction of the 
apparatus. 

The undertaking which he now proposed was the building of 



80 



OUR BOYS. 



a camera which could be used to take an unlimited number of 
beautiful views instead of a single one. He had a few well- 
selected tools, and he could procure such materials as a 
country town would furnish and the cash in hand would pay 
for. In getting his plans in practical form his knowledge of 
drawing was of great service and his mechanical skill in- 
valuable. 

We will try to describe his invention soclearlyand to illustrate 
it so fully that any one of our young readers whose aspirations 
run in the same direction may easily make an outfit for 
himself. 

A feature of the camera which Tom had seen in the cat- 
alogue, and which filled him with despair, was the bellows 
which allows the camera to be shortened or lengthened, and 

J 

c' I 



■^ 



.A. 



C 




F.^. 1. 



jB 



which makes it look like an exaggerated accordion. He ad- 
mitted to himself that it was entirely beyond his skill. He 
could manage the rest, but this was the part which cost him so 
much thought and the obstacle which he had the final satis- 
faction of surmounting. 

"You remember," he said to Joe, "that we moved the 
white card to and from the window till the picture was clear 
and sharp on it. That's what they call 'getting the image in 
focus,' and in order to do it we must make the portable 
chamber so that the lens at one end can be moved toward or 
from the plate at the other end. Next we must make it all 
dark inside, like my bedroom, so that no rays of light can get 
in except through the lens, and then it will make a picture 



OUR BOYS. 81 

all right and we can carry it about and make a picture any- 
where. 

"Now if you will look at my drawings, I guess you will 
understand it. Here in front (Fig. 1) is the board (i?), same 
as we had in the window, and here is the one-inch hole (£") 
through it. The spectacle glass (F) is at the back, and the 
stop in front — only instead of the piece of lead I shall use a 
cover (6^) made of thin cigar box wood with a one-eighth-inch 
hole in the center, and I have put another cover or cap (//) 
outside of that without any hole, and both swing on the same 
screw, which is turned up a little tight. The stop and cap are 
shaped like this (6^'). The cap is for shutting off the light 
before and after the 'exposure.' 

* ' This lens board of one-inch stuff is the front of a box 
(A), the sides of which (B, B) are three-eighths stuff, and the 
back open. Inside of this slides another box (C, C) which 
can be pushed out or in like a telescope, and is as good or 
better than the bellows. This box is without front or back, 
but with a groove made by the strips (^a, a, a, a) around the 
inside of the rear end — one side being left open so that the 
plate holder can be slid into the groove, making the back of 
the camera. As light cannot shine round a corner the strips 
will keep it out effectively." 

" But," said Joe, " how can we look in to get the plate in 
focus, as you call it, without letting the light in and spoiling 
the plate?" 

" That's easy enough," said Tom. "Where this dotted line 
is at the back of the camera we will put a pane of ground 
glass, or, if we can't get it, a sheet of thin white paper. 
Then if I cover my head and the back of the box with a cloth 
to keep out the outside light I can see the picture through the 
ground glass, don't you see?" 

" Well, I declare," said Joe, " if you haven't got a head! 
It is the same as the white card, but translucent enough to 
show the picture through. But how will you get the plate in 
and out without exposing it to the light?" 

" The plate holder fixes that," said Tom. " You shut the 

plate in a flat box with a sliding cover, and the box slides into 
6 



82 OUR BOYS. 

the grooves, as I told you, after the ground glass is taken out. 
Here, look at this drawing (Fig. 2). In the first place I cut 
out a piece of eight-ply cardboard, just half an inch larger all 
round than the 4x5 plate, which, of course, would make it 
5x6 inches. Next I made two of the same size, but with the 
center cut out just the size of the plate, like the inside line. 
Then I made a third the same, except that the margin at one 
end was wider, like the dotted line (<^) projecting inward one 
eighth of an inch beyond the other two. The center of the 
next card is cut out by the other dotted line, and I was care- 
ful to save the piece cut out. The last is just like the first 
two, and after they are all cut out I paste or glue them to- 
gether, just in the -order I have described them. I finally 
cover the edges with opaque paper and make the inside black. 
Here is a ' section ' showing how it will look if cut through 
the side at A. D is the whole card or the back of the holder ; 
d is the fourth of the cut-out cards, three sides of which {c, 
c, c') an eighth of an inch narrower than the others and the 
fourth side missing. This leaves a groove or recess in which 
the piece we saved (Q slides, making the sliding cover of the 
box. The ' section at B' shows the opening left at a by the 
missing side of the recessed card, and e shows the projection 
(<5) of the third cut-out card. 

' ' To use the plate holder we pull out the slide (0 by a 
piece of cambric we have pasted on the end and left project- 
ing. This leaves the whole front of the plate holder open. 
Take the holder, slide, and box of plates to some place where 
we can shut out all but red light. 

' * Now take the plate out of the box and place it in the 
holder, gelatine side up, sliding the end under the projecting 
edge of the third card, b. You can see how it will look by 
observing the sectional drawing (Fig. 2), in which E is the 
plate and e the projecting edge of the card. This holds it 
from tipping forward when in the camera, getting out f)f focus, 
and in the way of pushing in the slide after the exposure. 

' ' Now push the slide into its groove and your plate is shut 
up safe from the light and can be carried anywhere without 
danger. Don't you see?" 



OUR BOYS. 



83 



At this point Tom surprises his friend by producing the 
plate holder all made and showing it to him. 

"I don't see how you can make such beautiful things," 
said Joe. '* I could no more do it than I could fly over the 
barn." 

"And I don't see how anyone can write such splendid 
compositions as you can," said Tom. "I guess every fellow 
has his own line of talent. Father says that everyone ought 
to be able to do at least one thing better than anybody else." 




z? C 



I ~ 1 



^ B 



^//////////////////////A 



JS 



5ic ti u> 



Fig. 2. 



Tom wished to reciprocate, and his compliment was really 
well deserved, although Joe's essays were sometimes more 
flowery than logical. 

' ' Well, ' ' said Joe, * * when are we going to build the camera ? 
You haven't got that done, I suppose?" 

" I have started on it," said Tom, " but I want some hinges 
and a screw to fasten it to the top of the tripod. How much 
cash have we on hand?" 

** Nearly four dollars," said Joe. 

** Then we will have the ground glass instead of paper, and 
I will make a frame for it like a plate holder, only I will cut 
the back out so we can see through it. It will slide in the same 
grooves at the back of the camera, and as the two glasses will 
be in the same place the plate will be in focus if the ground 
glass is." 

The next Saturday the boys went to the village and made 
their purchases . They found at the hardware store some hinges 
of the required pattern, while an ingenious blacksmith made 



84 



OUR BOYS. 



them a screw and plate, finishing it in time for the boys to 
return to dinner. On the way back they called at the grocer's 
and bought a couple of empty boxes of three-eighths stuff, 
which were to be used as stock for the camera. 

After dinner the work was begun. The front board was cut 
out 5x6 inches, plus the thickness of the inner box. The for- 
ward section was formed around this by accurate fitting and 
nailing with one-and-a-quarter-inch brads, and as the focal 
length of the lens was eight inches each of the sections was 
made five inches long to allow a cap that would keep the 
light out. The rear section fitted nicely into the forward one, 
and a flap of cloth was pasted on at the inner end, like a 
weather strip, to make it light-tight. The right hand side of 
the rear section and of the groove was cut off to permit the 
plate holder and ground glass to be slid in, and the face against 
which the plate holder rested, as well as the interior of the 
groove, was lined with plush to exclude every ray of light. 
The inside of the camera and lens tube was painted black to 
prevent reflection of stray rays from the lens, and the outfit 
was complete, needing only a tripod as a matter of convenience. 
The three hinges purchased at the village were like the one 

shown here (^B, Fig. 
3), but just four times 
<^--- >^^>- ^. ■?'^T as large. Each of these 

was screwed to the end 
of a stick one inch 
square and five feet 
long, sawed off a little, 
beveling at the upper 
end and sharpened to a 
point at the lower ex- 
tremity, to prevent slip- 
p i n g. A triangular 
piece of one-inch hard- 
wood board (^4) was 
next sawed out, a hole 
((^) for the tripod screw was bored in the center and the' legs 
screwed on, as in our cut. The upper illustration represents 




OUR BOYS. 



85 





86 OUR BOYS. 

a "plan" of the bottom of the triangular tripod-top with one 
leg screwed on. The lower one is an " elevation," showing 
the side of the leg C, and another leg, D, turned down in po- 
sition for use. E is the tripod screw for holding the camera 
in place. 

The plate to which the tripod screw was fitted was next let 
in and fastened to the bottom of the forward section of the 
camera, which was then mounted on the tripod ready for 
work. 

On the next holiday our young friends were eager to try the 
new apparatus, and, after filling the plate holders, of which 
they now possessed a pair, they started for Aunt Alice's. The 
day was a perfect one, bright and clear, and the sun lit up the 
pretty cottage with its environment of trees and vines, making 
a charming picture, full of lights and shadows. The boys as- 
sisted the amiable mistress of the house to bring out the ole- 
ander and orange tree and a dozen of smaller plants, placing 
them upon the veranda steps, and Aunt Alice sat down among 
them with the dog and cat, while five-year-old Gertie sat by 
her side and the baby slept in her arms. 

Tom got the camera (Fig. 4) in 
position, put in the ground glass, 
opened both the shutters, and put 
an old shawl over his head to 
observe the effect. " It's just el- 
egant, Joe," said he. And Joe 
had to see and admire before any- 
thing more could be done. 
When the camera had been moved to the right distance to 
take in the picture, and the back had been slid out and in till 
the focus was perfect, the caps were both swung in place to 
shut out the light and the plate holder was substituted for the 
ground glass. Next, the slide was drawn back just far enough 
to uncover the plate, a pencil mark having been made as a 
guide before the plate was put in. 

Everything was ready for the denouement. 
" Now," said Tom, with an assumption of professional dig- 
nity, *' look right here and keep perfectly still." While Joe 




OUR BOYS. 87 

managed to keep the curiosity of Gyp and Tabby just enough 
excited to secure their undivided attention, Tom swung the out- 
side lens cover back and left it open for just five seconds, re- 
covered it, and the exposure was finished. 

"All done, and thank you," said Tom, politely, while 
Aunt Alice expressed her surprise that it was so soon over. 

The boys next carried the camera to a more distant point, 
where the picture would include the whole cottage, with the 
trees, the grape arbor, and the front fence, and after making 
another exposure they started for home to develop the plates. 
They took the plate holders to Tom's chamber again, and by 
the red light they had the supreme satisfaction of producing 
two excellent negatives and afterward of making the dozen 
pictures, adding another three dollars to the treasury surplus 
and creating a new fervor of admiration among the people of 
Byfield. 

The possession of a portable apparatus gave our young 
artists the opportunity of making quite a variety of charming 
views of the scenery of the vicinity, and the practice of their 
art awakened in them a new appreciation of nature and a habit 
of searching for the beautiful and picturesque. The education 
thus acquired was of value not only in the special and practical 
line of their newly developed industry, but besides, and better 
than this, it imparted a fresh impulse to the mental and invent- 
ive faculties, and inspired a new growth in culture and refine- 
ment. Both had been trained in the Sunday school and brought 
up under the best of home influences, and the study of nature 
under such conditions would be almost sure to lead to a deeper 
reverence and a warmer love for the Author of all that is good 
and beautiful. 

The money gained by the sale of pictures and the habits of 
thrift and industry which were acquired by practice in art and 
finance, were but a part of the real advantage derived from 
the pursuit of photography. 

Up to this time the boys had attempted no pictures but the 
" blue print," and they began to feel as if a little variety, if 
not improvement, would be achieved by the adoption of some 
other style. 



88 OUR BOYS. 

Some of their schoolmates who admired unreservedly at 
first had asked them, "Why don't you make real photo- 
graphs?" 

"Well," said Joe, "'photo' means light, and 'graph' 
means to draw or write. You know what 'graphic' means, I 
guess? Our pictures are made by the action of light and are 
'real' photographs." 

" But why don't you print them in black and white, or in 
those pretty brown-blacks and purple-blacks, like the regular 
professional photographers?" 

"The fact is," said Joe, "we think the blue pictures are 
about as pretty as any and more of a novelty." 

He didn't like to. confess that he had wished that the 
pictures looked a little more "professional," as the boys 
called it, and that a prominent reason for their adherence 
to the blue formula was their ignorance, so far, of any other 
process. 

On the first opportunity Tom and Joe met to discuss the 
new problem. They were both of the opinion that an advance 
along the line of new printing methods would be desirable ; 
but they were afraid that the processes required too much skill 
and could only be managed by the aid of a teacher. Tom was 
going to the city in a few days, and it was decided that he 
should make inquiries and report on his return. 

"Come to think of it," said Joe, "you had better take 
along some money, and if you see anything we want just buy 
it and bring it home. I'll risk your judgment, anyhow." 

Tom had seen in some paper an advertisement of supplies 
for amateur photographers, and he made a note of the ad- 
dress and paid the store a visit. He explained that he was a 
beginner, and that he wanted the materials and directions for 
the simplest process of making pictures in black and white. 
The dealer listened with amused interest to the story of their 
past successes as enthusiastically related by Tom, and gave 
him a good deal of information and advice. 

"The thing you want," said he, "is the chlorobromide 
process. It prints in the sun just the same as the blue print, 
only you have to watch it a little more carefully so as to print 



OUR BOYS. 89 

it just enough, and you finish it by ' toning ' in a solution that 
is already mixed and no trouble of any sort." 

After a few more questions and answers Tom bought two 
dozen sheets of the sensitized paper for thirty-eight cents, and 
a pint bottle of the toning solution for seventy- five cents. The 
dealer explained that the "bath," as he called it, could be used 
over and over, adding a little fresh solution from time to time as 
needed, so that it was by no means expensive. At his sug- 
gestion Tom also bought two oblong japanned pans for ton- 
ing the prints and a one-pint glass funnel. Tom figured that 
the cost of the prints would be about the same as the ferro- 
cyanide, and he believed that with the aid of the accompany- 
ing directions he could manage the manipulation. The sup- 
ply dealer gave him a sample print, representing a pretty 
mountain scene with a cascade falling down between massive 
rocks which were covered with mosses and ferns and flanked 
by fir and hemlock trees. Tom was very glad of this, as it 
would demonstrate to his partner the judiciousness of his pur- 
chases and, incidentally, serve as a sort of standard of excel- 
lence, the approximation of which would be their aim while 
perfecting themselves in the working of the new process. 

Joe was delighted with the print. Its colors were pure black 
and white, and the various gradations between, like the tints of 
a perfect steel plate or other engraving, giving firm contrasts 
and beautiful half tones. 

" I think I see," said he, " why the black and white pic- 
tures outlive all others in popular favor. It is because no other 
colors present so strong contrasts. Black is the very darkest 
color and white is the very lightest, so that the contrast is 
much more striking than between white and blue or any other 
color." 

" I never thought of it before," said Tom, a little surprised 
at the flow of Joe's erudition, "but I guess you are right. 
Now let's look at the directions and see what's to be done. It 
says that the print must be examined from time to time dur- 
ing the process of printing in order to tell when it is finished. 
We can't do that with our printing frame, as we could never 
get the paper back in place if we once took it out. You 



90 



OUR BOYS. 




A. 



B 



Fi3.% 



JL 



know we have got them right by timing the printing, and 
we have wasted a good deal of paper in learning to judge 

of the light before we could get it 
just right." 

"Well," said Joe, "what are 
we going to do?" 

In matters that involved inven- 
tion he was in the habit of leaving 
the whole affair to Tom. 

' ' I saw, ' ' said Tom, ' ' a printing 
frame at the store which opened at 
the back by a hinge, so that while 
one end was held down by a stiff 
spring, keeping the paper firmly in 
place, the other could be lifted, the 
print examined, and, if not finished, 
it could be clamped down again 
and put in the sun a while longer. 
I have been thinking about it, and 
I believe I can make one, though 
it will not be dovetailed at the 
corners or made so nicely as the machine work. I shall 
make it in this way." And he sketched rapidly his plans for 
the new printing frame, explaining as he went along, so that 
Joe could see just how the construction would go on and what 
the result would be. Joe expressed himself as charmed with 
the simplicity and ingenuity of the plan, and it was agreed that 
the work should commence at the first opportunity. 

On the next holiday he went over to Tom's workshop and 
found him already busy. 

In the first place he got out two strips of board, one of 
which (shown in section at A, Fig. 1) was one inch wide and 
three quarters of an inch thick, and the other (-5) one and 
a quarter inches wide and one inch thick. Two pieces of the 
widest (^) six and one sixteenth inches long, and two pieces 
of the other (^), just two inches shorter, were sawed off and 
the long and short one were nailed together with one-and-a- 
half-inch brads, so that they were just even on one side, while 



Jvy.3 



OUR BOYS. 



91 



J\ 



Fig J^ 



B projected a quarter of an inch at the other side (as shown 
in section at Fig. 1) and each end of B projected an inch 
beyond the ends of A (like Fig. 2). The two pieces of A 
were sawed seven and one sixteenth inches long, and two of 
B just two and a half inches shorter, and they were nailed 
together as in Fig. 3, in which A extends one and a quarter 
inches at each end beyond B. 

The frame was now ready to make up by lapping or ' ' halv- 
ing " together at the corners. Fig. 4 gives a "plan" view 
of the frame at this stage, AA being the one-inch wide pieces 
and BB the projecting extra width of the lower pieces. The 
dotted lines give a sort of isometrical perspective (get your 
dictionaries, boys), showing how the joint is made and how 
strong it is when all nailed together. A still nicer job can be 
made by gluing it up, but it 
necessitates waiting for the 
successive parts to dry. 

After this part of the work 
was satisfactorily completed 
a pencil mark was drawn all 
around the lower face of the 
frame three eighths of an 
inch from the inner -edge, 
and the corner was beveled 
off to prevent the shadow of the frame from falling on the 
print if it did not exactly face the sun. Tom did this very 
easily with a wide chisel and a pocket knife. Fig. 5 shows a 
section of the frame after this change was made, c being the 
point on the face of the frame from which the line is drawn, 

and b the part removed, the 
dotted line showing the orig- 
inal contour. A similar bevel 
was taken off the sides of the 
frame at the back a quarter of 
an inch deep and wide (see 
a. Figs. 5 and 6). 
The back of the frame {C, Figs. 5 and 6) is made of half- 
inch stuff, just the size of the recess at the back — in this case 



77 



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92 



OUR BOYS. 



A 






r 




-0 1 [ 


2 

A 




a 




1 C 


1 




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5 ® i7 [ 




C 







E 



Ficj. 6. 



a little over 4x5 inches to allow of slight variation in the size 
of the plates . This back is sawed in two halves ( at the dot- 
ted line, Fig. 6), and a hinge ( C) of thin leather is glued on. 

A flat spring {D, D) half inch 
wide, of spring brass or steel, is 
screwed or riveted to the center 
of each half of the back, the 
screw admitting of a sideways 
swing of the ends. This spring 
is curved upward at each end, so 
that when pressed down and 
swung under the buttons, E, E, 
it bears firmly upon the negative 
(F, Fig. 5) and holds the paper 
down closely to it. The bevel 
(^, a, Figs. 5 and 6) was taken 
ofiE to permit the ends of the spring to slide under the ends of 
the buttons, E, E, which are screwed rigidly to the wood. 
They are a little narrow in the drawing, but should be three 
quarters of an inch wide and one inch long. A one-inch burr 
makes a good enough button and costs almost nothing. 

When the frame was completed Tom proceeded to illus- 
trate its use. 

"Here is the frame," said he, "and here is the hinged 
back. You place the negative in the frame, laying it back 
down and gelatine side up. Now we lay the paper on the neg- 
ative, sensitive side down. We now put the back in and 
press the ends of the springs down and under the buttons, 
and we are all right to print." 

At this point Mrs. Wood called from the back door that 
dinner was ready, and the meeting was adjourned until this 
very pleasant duty had been discharged. 

After dinner the new chlorobromide prints were to be at- 
tempted, and the boys were impatient to begin. One of the 
choicest negatives was placed in the frame and a sheet of the 
new chlorobromide paper was placed upon it, face downward. 
The two sides were the same color and looked much alike, but 
a close inspection showed that the sensitive face was smoother 



OUR BOYS. 93 

and better finished. One half of the back was placed in po- 
sition and the ends of the spring swung under the buttons ; 
then, after being sure that the paper was accurately placed, 
the other half was clamped down and the frame was placed in 
the sun. 

After a few minutes the frame was taken in out of the direct 
sunlight, one spring loosened, and that half of the frame 
lifted. The printing had commenced, the darker parts of the 
picture having turned a queer reddish brown. 

The boys were much interested in the gradual development 
of the print and the novel color which it took on, and im- 
mensely pleased with the working of the new frame which 
permitted such easy and frequent inspection of the process. 

"I wonder if it is done," said Joe, after about ten min- 
utes. 

" I guess not," said Tom. "The directions say we must 
print it till it is much darker than the finished print is expected 
to be, as it bleaches out a good deal in toning and fixing." 

' ' What is the ' toning and fixing, ' as you call it, for, any- 
way? " asked Joe. 

" The toning," said Tom, " turns the red-brown to purple 
or black and bleaches the whole print several shades, so that 
the high lights become white, giving brilliancy to the pic- 
ture. The fixing dissolves from the paper all the sensitive 
chloride of silver which the light has not already acted upon, 
so that there is nothing left which is changeable by light, and 
the picture remains in statu quo ever after." 

"Good boy!" said Joe. "Your chemical knowledge is 
only exceeded by the elegance of your diction. By the way, 
isn't that print about done? " 

The forgotten picture was hastily taken in and examined, and 
it was so dark that both declared it spoiled. Even the sky was 
a decidedly reddish tone, and the detail in the darker parts 
was almost gone ; but they decided to save it and tone it with 
the rest. 

Another negative was placed in the frame, another print 
made, and then another, till four of the precious pieces of 
paper had been printed and were ready for toning. 



94 OUR BOYS. 

Now came a stage of the work with which they were unfa- 
miliar, and which they attempted with some misgivings, but 
with strict attention to the directions. In the first place they 
put the prints, face downward, in water, in one of the new 
pans, moving them about constantly, so that each should be 
equally exposed to the action of the water, and changing the 
water twice. This was done in daylight, but in a part of the 
room where the light was quite dim. While they were soak- 
ing Tom mixed the toning and fixing bath by measuring four 
ounces of solution out of the bottle, pouring it into the pan 
and adding to it eight ounces of water. As the directions 
enjoined care in confining each operation to its own vessel 
they named the pan first used the ** first wash ' ' pan, and marked 
it F. W., while the toning pan was marked T., and the third 
pan, in which the final washing was done, L. W., for "last 
wash." 

When the preliminary soaking was finished the prints were 
placed in the toning pan, moved about as before, and the 
change in color observed. They were now face upward in 
sufficient light to show the color plainly, and the lower print 
was constantly pulled out and placed upon the upper, so that 
all was uniformly wet with the bath. 

Pretty soon the prints began slowly to turn lighter and at the 
same time to a sort of purple. Tom was delighted, as this 
was just what he expected. Slowly they turned through the 
intermediate shades till the reddish hue was all gone, the skies 
were almost or quite white, and the darker parts almost black. 
The colors faded till two of the prints were entirely too light, 
and the first, which was supposed to be spoiled by over-print- 
ing, was the only perfect one of the four. 

"Isn't it too bad," said Joe, "that we didn't make them 
all like that?" 

"Well, I don't know," said Tom. " Perfection is gener- 
ally reached through successive failures, and we have learned 
by this blunder just how to do it. We need not make the 
same mistake again." 

"That's so," said Joe. " ' Experimentia does it,' as our 
old teacher used to say." 



OUR BOYS. 95 

When the prints had reached the tint that seemed to be 
about the thing they were well washed in the third pan, chang- 
ing the water two or three times, and were then ready to dry. 
The toning bath was poured into the quart bottle and put away 
for future use, and the pans were washed and dried. 

The prints were very good. They looked more like a steel 
plate than the common photograph, and were admired by every- 
body. The young partners were overrun with orders for work, 
their pictures were circulated far and wide, and their treasury 
was replete with shekels. 



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HOW TO MAKE A RAILROAD CAR. 



FIRST of all get a large piece of heavy cardboard, and with 
a ruler and pencil draw Fig. 1, copied exactly from the 
model card. It will be better to just double the dimensions 
given. Be careful to make all measurements exact with 
the ruler. A pair of compasses will be invaluable in doubling 
distances. When drawn, cut the floor out, cutting all lines 

^ ^ and leaving all others. The wings sticking out at 

each end are the steps, and you must cut in each side of them 
as far as the platform. Next take a piece of pine one eighth 
of an inch thick and cut it just the shape of the car floor and 
platforms, not including the steps. This done, glue (mucilage 
or paste will be almost useless) the paper on the board so that 
they just fit upon each other. Now bend the steps down. So 
far we have a firm floor, platform, and steps. Next draw two 
sides like Fig. 2. This requires care and patience rather than 
artistic skill. A ruler, compasses, and pencil are needed. 
When these are ready to put on, moisten the edge of the floor 
board with glue and apply one side piece, bending it at the 
corner in a right angle, thus bringing the car end into place. 
The notched place under the door will fit down over the plat- 
form. The projecting flange to the left is to be bent and 
glued to the inside of the other side piece, which is ap- 
plied in the same way as the first. Pins should be stuck along 
the edge of the side pieces along the floor until the glue is 
dried and the cardboard firmly attached. 



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J-Ai: 






OUR BOYS. 99 

Thus far we do not think the work has been very hard. 
The roof is the most difficult, as it is the prettiest part of the 
work. A little ingenuity and a great deal of patience are de- 
manded in the folding, cutting, and gluing of this piece of 
card numbered 3. We assume that the plan has been drawn 
not on very stiff card (it bends unevenly and breaks easily), 
but on smooth, heavy writing paper which will fold nicely, 
and that the lines have been correctly copied, a difference 
being made between cutting lines ( ) and folding lines 

Fig. 4 shows how the roof should be folded so that there 
shall be ' ' overhangs ' ' above the ven- a^- 
tilators in the monitor roof and over _J 
the car windows. This folding requires ] sct^uiiSKocvwcj to\evs 
patience and care. When the folding ""^ '^''"^• 

is done the roof has assumed its proper shape. Glue should 
be run into the "overhangs" (^aa, Fig. 4), and the edges 
flattened down and held until they are firmly united. Now to 
finish the ends of the roof or " hoods," as they are called 

(Fig. 3 at the end). Cut from a 
to d on both sides. This will 



KJ.1+. 



t permit the center of the roof to 



5.ae Vie«cs t..E.c§ RO.S Foi..e^ slope down, as shown in Fig. 5. 
avic\ GAvi-ci?^. p^-j- some glue on the triangular 

piece which hangs to the upper piece, and press this 
firmly to the side on which the ventilators are drawn. Do this 
on both sides. This will hold the end piece in place. It will 
do no harm to secure the ends by means of a fine cambric 
needle and thread. Short parts of 
the triangular pieces will project below 

the hood ; cut these away. Of course T't,^4v.e^o^Roo^ -i.e.. 
make both " hoods " the same way. ro-i£ve&.au-ic\ue.^ 

The roof is now ready to be put on the car body. Run glue 
along the outside of the lower flanges of the roof. Fit the roof 
down like the cover of a box, only let the flanges go inside. 
This part of the work successfully 05fer,the hard work is done. 
The details are now simple. 

Fig. 7 shows the end of one truck. A piece of pasteboard 




100 



OUR BOYS. 




with the drawing of wheels, springs, etc., is glued to each end 

of a small pine block (the figure shows the right proportion), 

which is in turn glued to the bottom of the car. 

Fig. 8 shows the wooden coupling glued under 

each platform and projecting a little way. Figs. 

9 and 10 show how buffers may be made and 

fastened to the end of the platform. Fig. 11 

gives an idea of 

the hand rails, 

made of fine wire 

or old hairpins, 

and thrust in awl 

holes in the 

woodwork. 

Do not work 
in a hurry. Do 
not use card- 
board for the 
roof. Be sure to 
have the best 

glue. With water color paints the car may be colored to 
suit the owner's taste, and a very pretty little model will it 
make if carefully drawn and put together. 



Fv^.l -TRUCK. 



Vi^ »-CO\jPHNGv 



!--^ 




Hqq-BVJNKtRS. 





THE "FESTINA." 




JACK and I considered ourselves capital- 
ists and inventors among the boys of 
our neighborhood. I am not quite so certain 
about our position as I was a few years ago, 
but a brief list of our achievements will en- 
able the reader to weigh for himself the jus- 
tice of our modest claim. 

It was in connection with a small railroad 
in my yard that we laid the foundation of our 
reputation. After enjoying this plaything for 
a few weeks with a select company of friends, 
it occurred to us to throw it open to the 
public. Tickets were printed, and for 
the sum of five pins anyone was entitled 
'- to a trip over the "Home Railroad." 
We had heavy traffic for some days 
a large fortune of pins, which we converted 
into coin at favorable rates. We patronized the candy shops, 
and had more friends than we could treat. This was success. 
Gradually, however, the novelty of riding over our line wore 
off, and our profits decreased alarmingly. Something must be 
done; that was plain. In a moment of inspiration we adver- 
tised an increase in the price of tickets, and offered an un- 
paralleled attraction. We would, in consideration of the higher 
rate, put obstructions on the track, derail the car, and pretend 
to scalp the passengers. This would afford our patrons all the 
excitement and some of the danger of Western life without any 



and amassed 



102 



OUR BOYS. 



of the expense incident to a long journey. The idea took like 
wildfire ; we spent one whole Saturday in scientifically bruis- 
ing the younger portion of the community, the pins poured into 
our coffers, and we were triumphantly happy. Our triumph 
was brief. We never did more than one day's wrecking and 
scalping business. The complaints of irate parents came in 
faster than we could file them. We found our business boy- 
cotted, and were compelled to return to the old system, 
which soon ceased to pay. Brief as our glory was, we had in- 
troduced our genius to the neighborhood in an unmistakable 
manner. It was a long time before our Indian depredations 
were forgotten. 

A Punch and Judy show which we saw at a fair aroused our 
ambition, and in two weeks we had manufactured an outfit and 



^\ 




learned the dialogue. For twenty-five cents we would carry 
our frame to a private house, set up the stage, and give a com- 
plete performance. We enjoyed a certain dubious popularity 
and were in some demand for children's parties. On one occa- 
sion we earned three dollars for two nights at a church fair. The 
profits of the railroad were nothing to the opulence we attained 
at this time. We might still be coining money in the Punch 
and Judy business were it not for the unfortunate " change " 
which boys' voices undergo. Our dialogues were carried on 
in a high, squeaky tone, which, when the change of voice be- 
gan, was unexpectedly varied. We never knew exactly what 
was coming next from our unreliable vocal chords. Of course 
this made the show more amusing, but when an audience is 
interested in accidents rather than in the regular performance 
it is time to drop the curtain. We closed up the business and 
let our voices do their worst. 



OUR BOYS. 



103 



I cannot describe in detail the other ventures which added 
to our fame. The ship on wheels was a success until it caused 
a runaway; the canvas canoe excited universal admiration be- 
fore it was put into the water, and our homemade fireworks 
would have astonished the town if they hadn't prematurely as- 
tonished us by going off in company with our eyebrows the 
day before the celebration. As an old gardener remarked, 
"We didn't look nigh so pretty, but we know'd a big sight 
more." 

We had been living on our reputation for some time, when 
we began our masterpiece — the "Festina." This remarkable 
conveyance was designed to destroy completely a couple of 
rival inventors and put our own name beyond the reach of 
calumny, for the boys, forgetting our past record, were in the 
habit of alluding unnecessarily to our fireworks. 

The two rivals to whom I have referred had made an open 
platform carriage, which they propelled by means of a lever 
connected by a rod with a crank in the rear axle. It was a 
crude affair, but, as tricycles were then unknown, it was re- 
garded with wonder and admiration by our former adherents, 
whom we came near losing. 

Jack and I went over one 
afternoon to look at the new 
invention. We examined it 
with well-concealed interest, 
and, it must be confessed, 
some pangs of jealousy. Our 
praise was limited. We acted 
as though just such a thing 
had occurred to us in our 
cradles, but we had never 
thought it worth while to 
make it. 

On our way home we re- 
solved to build a carriage 
which, as I have said, should annihilate our rivals. We laid 
our plans secretly, and negotiated a large paternal loan, giving 
as collateral our somewhat checkered reputation, and enlarging 




o- 



104 OUR BOYS. 

Upon the satisfaction which a father should feel in having so 
much genius in his own family. 

Work was begun in a large attic workshop, and continued 
for nearly two months. Only a few particular friends were ad- 
mitted ; the others were kept in a state of constant curiosity, 
expectation, and admiration by the judicious dropping of 
fragmentary remarks and suggestive hints. 

The reader is now invited into the mysterious room, where I 
shall describe the car as it stood ready to be lowered from the 
window for its trial trip. 

The ground plan of the " Festina " shows the arrangement 
by which the front wheels were permitted to turn freely from 
side to side. The platform of solid plank was 8 feet long and 
2 feet 4 inches broad. A heavy beam projected from the for- 
ward end, and was pivoted on the front axle. 

Upon this platform was erected a stout frame, made from 
the remains of the Punch and Judy stage. On this frame was 
constructed a curved roof of barrel hoops, and hoods like those 
of a railroad car projected from each end. The whole frame- 
work was covered with heavy, black carriage leather, which 
gave the outside of the car a well-finished but somewhat gloomy 
appearance. 

The internal arrangements were as convenient and handsome 
as we could make them. There were two rooms — the steer- 
ing, or pilot room forward and the engine room in the rear. 
These rooms were connected by arched and curtained door- 
ways with a small central hall, which had two other doors 
opening outward. The pilot room contained a steering wheel 
which, by means of ropes passing over pulleys and a drum, 
perfectly controlled the movements of the front axle. This pilot 
room was decidedly luxurious. The ceiling was padded with 
brightly figured cloth, the woodwork painted or covered with 
handsome strips of wall paper, two chromos decorated the 
side walls, and a piece of Axminster carpet made a soft cover- 
ing for the floor. A small window before the steering wheel 
enabled the pilot to see his way. On each side of the window 
bookshelves were fitted up, containing a small library of neatly 
covered volumes. A ventilator in the front of the roof and a 



OUR BOYS. 



105 



bell cord connecting with a gong in the engine room completed 
the fittings of this apartment. 

The hall woodwork was carefully decorated, and the floor 
covered with bright oilcloth. A carriage lamp in' one corner, 
with its polished reflectors and clean glass, was all ready for a 
night run. The engine room 
we shall describe later. Out- 
side, as I have said, the " Fes- 
tina ' ' was delightfully gloomy. 
We had painted everything as 
black as night. Savetwo small 
windows in the doors, the pilot 
window already described, and 
another opening in the rear of 
the engine room, the sides 
of the car were unbroken 
stretches of black. 

The headlight we made 
from parts of an old magic 
lantern. The large lens we 
set in the front of a box containing a powerful oil lamp. 
This box, painted black, was fastened on the projecting beam 
just below the steering window. In the rear a small platform 
afforded standing room for a boy on duty outside the car. 

But our pride was in the engine room. We had invented a 
wonderful motor whjch was to send us spinning along at a 
brisk pace. In an old junk shop we had seen two cogwheels 
— one small, the other large. We had an indefinite idea that 
cogwheels possessed the mysterious power of converting a 
slight effort into a tremendous force. We bought the wheels 
with a feeling of awe and carted them secretly to our shop. 
After much thought and experiment we hit upon what we 
thought a marvelous idea. The small wheel was fastened 
firmly to the back axle, and through a hole in the floor the 
large wheel was let down until the two were in gear. The 
large wheel was held in a solid frame, and could be turned by 
handles on each side. Every time this big wheel made a rev- 
olution its small companion carried the axle and rear wheels 




106 OUR BOYS. 

around four times ! Was ever anything so wonderful known 
before ? 

I shall never forget the afternoon when Jack, who was the 
scientific member of the firm, sat down and began working 
some problems on a smooth piece of pine. 

"Let's see," said he; " those rear wheels are 3 feet 6 inches 
in diameter. Multiply that by 3, that's 10 feet 6; well, add 
6 inches to make up for that old decimal I've forgotten — 11 
feet. Every revolution she goes 11 feet. You turn her, and 
see how many revolutions she makes a minute." 

We put a box under the platform and raised tjie wheels from 
the floor. Then I got inside and "turned her." 

The wheels flew around like mad. Jack gave up counting 
outside and looked in the back window to see the big cog go 
round. • 

"As near as I can make it," said he, after a comparison 
with his watch, "the big cog makes 65 turns a minute. Then 
the outside drivers must make 4 times that, or 260 turns. 
Let's see, 260 times 11 feet makes 2,860 feet in a 
minute. Now there are 5,280 feet in a mile. Whew! " 

I looked up in surprise at his ejaculation. " What's up?" 
I asked. 

" Why, this old caboose is going to make a mile in less than 
two minutes — ^thirty miles an hour. Just think of that, will 
you!" 

It fairly took our breath away. We looked at each other 
and at the miraculous cogs. For a moment we were frightened 
at our own genius. Perhaps fellows like us ought to be a little 
careful about doing the best we knew how. We wanted to 
outshine those other inventors, but we did not mean to set 
loose any great unmanageable force. One doesn't break an 
egg with a locomotive. 

Our apprehensions soon gave way to exultation. We would put 
our reputations beyond the reach of fireworks or anything else. 
We made no definite statements, but intimated to our friends 
that something eventful might be expected on a certain day 
which was appointed for the trial trip of the " Festina." 

About four o'clock on the appointed afternoon a crowd of 



OUR BOYS. 



107 



boys collected in our yard to see the ' ' Festina ' ' start on her 
trial trip. We had carefully lowered our wonderful creation 
to the ground and had spent half a day in putting everything 
in perfect running order. The steering gear was tested and 
the ropes wet to take up all slack, every part of the engine 
where oil would stand was thoroughly lubricated, the head- 
light was polished, the pilot room swept and dusted, the hall 
oilcloth washed — in short the ' ' Festina ' ' was thoroughly 
ready for her astonishing journey. 




To say that Jack and I were proxid would be stating the case 
very mildly. We were so puffed up that it is a wonder we were 
able to enter the narrow doorways. We walked about with all 
the importance of railroad magnates, inspecting the car know- 
ingly and making curt replies to the volleys of questions which 
assailed us. • 

The start was announced for 4:30. Promptly at that hour 
Jack took his place in the engine room, and I sat down, Turk 
fashion, in front of the steering wheel. The doors were shut 
and hooked on the inside. 

The long expected hour of triumph had arrived. In a pur- 
posely audible tone I said to Jack : 

" Don't start her too fast. Give her a ten-mile gait to be- 
gin with, and then let her out when we strike the open 
country." 

This remark seemed to cause a sensation among the specta- 
tors, and our exultation was hardly to be suppressed. 

With a feeling of mastery I pulled the signal cord and 
firmly grasped the wheel, to direct our onward rush. For some 



108 OUR BOYS. 

reason we failed to rush ; on the contrary, we did not move an 
inch. Jack could not have heard the bell, I thought, and I 
gave the cord a sharp tug. A groaning and creaking in the 
engine room was the only response. I began to feel nervous. 

" Jack," I whispered, " why don't you start her? " 

" She won't budge," came the low answer. 

" Try her again." 

Another interval of hard straining and labored breathing 
was followed by a mournful, '* 'Taint any use, she's stuck 
fast." 

I have been in few more embarrassing positions in my life. 
I was glad to be out of sight at any rate. We were made more 
miserable still by the -kind encouragements of the spectators. 

" Don't start her too fast," said one. 

" Just an easy ten-mile gait at first," added another. 

" You can let her out, you know, when you strike the 
open country," was the contribution of a third. 

Jack and I held a council in the hall. We looked at each 
other blankly, and wished there were some way of getting into 
the house without exposing our delicate constitutions to the 
open air. We certainly were unfortunate. Our fireworks had 
gone off entirely too soon, and now our car wouldn't go off at 
all. An oppressive silence reigned within, but without there 
was a great deal of conversation, in which we noticed a num- 
ber of remarks we had made a few minutes before. 

' ' You fellows better stand back ; you may get hurt when 
she starts." "Is that engine oiled. Jack?" "Start when 
I ring once," and other mocking echoes drove us to desper- 
ation. 

Our first impulse was to pitch into the whole crowd, but we 
were inventors enough to see the uselessness of that proceed- 
ing. Instead we slowly emerged. We were small enough for 
the doors then, and I made a speech somewhat as follows : 

"We have decided to postpone the trial trip because my 
mother doesn't like to have so many boys tramp on the grass. 
So please go home." 

I think the logic is not quite sound, but my conclusion was 
to the point. What Jack and I pined for just then was un- 



OUR BOYS. 109 

disturbed solitude. It was some time before we attained our 
object. The boys had come for sport, and they helped them- 
selves bountifully at our expense before they left. 

An examination of the engine showed us our mistake. We 
had failed to allow for the friction of the driving wheels when 
supporting the weight of the car. It was simply impossible to 
move the " Festina " by the arrangement we had made. 

A crestfallen pair presented themselves before the owners of 
the car stock and humbly asked for advice. This was given 
freely, and was in effect the plan already employed by our 
rivals — the crank, connecting rod, and lever. 

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but we were willing to do any- 
thing which would even partially mend our tattered reputation. 
In a few days the new machinery was put in and we had 
another trial, which, I need not say, was strictly private. 

This attempt was fairly successful, and the long, black 
carriage rolled in dignified way out of the gate on to the side- 
walk. It did not require much exertion to move the car, but 
it must be confessed that she advanced at a most deliberate 
pace. Still it was something to Jhave a cozy little cabin in 
which we could ride about, and which was moved and con- 
trolled from within. 

For the sake of convenience I have given our car a name 
which was not bestowed until it had been running some time. 
We wanted a high-sounding name for our vehicle, and again 
called upon paternal resources. It was suggested that Festina 
leiite (hasten slowly) would be an appropriate motto. We 
did not understand the joke, but adopted the first word, which 
we painted on the front in yellow letters, and pointed out to 
our now thoroughly converted friends as real Latin. 

We had a great deal of fun in our comfortable slow coach. 
We took other boys Into partnership to complete our crew. 
One steered, another sat in the hall and helped a third, who 
was In the engine room, to work the lever back and forth. 
The fourth boy rode on the rear platform and managed the 
bridge boards. These boards were carried on the platform. 
When we came to a corner curbstone — we ran on the side- 
walks — the outside boy hurried ahead and laid these two boards 



no 



OUR BOYS. 




OUR BOYS. 



Ill 



SO as to form an inclined plane, down which we easily rolled. 
As soon as the car had passed, the boards were picked up and 
quickly placed against the opposite curb, affording a slope by 
which we gained the sidewalk again. We became so skilled 
in handling the boards that we often ran two miles without a 
halt. We made out a time-table, to which we closely adhered. 
At a fixed hour we left our yard, and were due at different 
squares and street crossings at certain times. It was great 
sport to make up time when we were delayed for any reason, 
and many an exciting run we made over smooth stretches of 
asphalt pavement. One place in particular used to attract us. 
A street curved in a crescent form for some distance, and the 
privilege of steering " around the crescent " was eagerly 
sought by every member of the crew. 

The pleasure of running in the daytime was nothing com- 
pared with the delight of 
night trips; besides, our car 
attracted too much attention 
by day. Indeed, some unap- 
preciative people, who ig- 
nored budding genius, made 
complaints about us, and 
talked of appealing to the 
police. We knew the po- 
lice very well. He was 
rather fat, and liked to doze under the bank steps. So it was 
not so much the fear of him as the additional attractiveness of 
night running that led us to give up day trips altogether. 

I wish my readers could have seen the " Festina" at night. 
Outside all was dark save the small side windows, and the 
blinding headlamp which lighted the way many feet in front of 
us. As the car approached one could see nothing but this 
round bull's-eye light. Within, the hall and engine room were 
brightly lighted by reflecting lamps. But the pilot room 
curtains were tightly drawn to exclude all light from that 
apartment, in order that the pilot might see his way. 

What fun it was to steer at night ! The sense of forging 
ahead in the darkness, of controlling the movement of the car, 




1 12 OUR BOYS. 

the thought that the others were depending on him, the care- 
ful avoiding of well-remembered rough places, the exact 
striking of the bridge boards at corners — all these things made 
the pilot's duties most attractive. In cold weather we carried 
cans of hot water, which made the rooms cozy enough. Now 
and then we took a supper with us, ran out into the suburbs 
and had a picnic, all inside our car. 

The last run of the " Festina " was a memorable one. We 
were returning from a dining trip about nine o'clock on a 
pitch dark night. Jack was at the wheel, while Jim and I 
manned the lever. We had been jogging along at a steady 
pace, but on reaching the crescent Jack shouted, " Let her 
flicker " — Jack had a bad habit of using slang. We needed 
no urging ; the lever flew back and forth under the influence of 
our combined efforts, and the old "Festina" began to make 
rapid headway. I could feel the effect of the curve as we 
rounded the bend. Suddenly I heard an ejaculation from the 
pilot room, the next moment I took a header over Jim into 
the hall, the lights went out, and we three were struggling in 
the dark. 

"What's the matter. Jack? " I asked as soon as I collected 
my senses. 

" Matter? Why we've run a man down ! ' 

Here was a pretty state of affairs. We dreaded to open 
the door almost as much as we did the day of the first trial 
trip. At length we mustered up courage and filed out. 

The headlight had been extinguished by the jar, but by the 
light of a neighboring street lamp we saw a man lying on the 
sidewalk in front of the car. We were on the point of run- 
ning away, when the prostrate figure partly rose and began 
nursing his shins, at the same time talking in a thick, uncertain 
voice which left little doubt as to its owner's condition. From 
what we could gather, the gentleman, for we recognized in him 
a prominent city politician, seemed to have the impression that 
a fierce monster with a terrible eye had bitten off both his legs. 
We helped our victim to his feet, but as he started to totter 
away he fell against the side of the car, which he seized for 
support. The severe pain which his bruised limbs must have 



OUR BOYS. 113 

caused him had a sobering effect, for he examined his assail- 
ant quite carefully, and used some emphatic language which I 
have not space to report. At last, much to our relief, he con- 
tinued on his way, after a few remarks not calculated to lull our 
apprehensions. 

We sadly lighted up again, and slowly wended our way 
home with a conviction that the " Festina's " fate was sealed. 

Sure enough, next day the policeman called upon our chief 
stockholder and notified him that a severe penalty would be in- 
flicted if our wagon again appeared on the streets. 

So we regretfully raised the car back to the attic, where it 
still reposes, a reminder of happy days spent in building and 
running the ill-fated " Festina." 



HOW TO MAKE A BANJO. 



I SUPPOSE that among our readers there are a great num- 
ber who love music. Among the stringed instruments the 
banjo has become very popular during the last few years, and 
the reputation it has had of being an instrument mainly for 
minstrel use has been forgotten. Now, to buy a good banjo 
we must pay a good price, in fact, too high a price for the 
average youth to become the possessor of such an instrument. 
Perhaps some of you think it is a difficult matter to make a 
banjo, but this is hot so, as I know from personal experience. 
It is a much more difficult matter to make a violin than a banjo, 
and if you have ever made a violin I am sure you will succeed 
with this. I have made a number of banjos, and I am going 
to tell you how to do it. If you can, borrow a banjo from one 
A 5 



.^^ 




F 

of your friends to look at as a model, as it will make it con- 
siderably easier for you to understand what is meant by the 
different figures. We will commence with the neck and fin- 
ger board. 

Get a sound and straight grained piece of maple 33 inches 
long, 21 inches wide, and 2i inches thick when planed smooth 
on all sides. If you cannot get maple a good piece of white 
pine will do, and will be easier to work, but, if you can get it 
and are not afraid of a little harder work, I would advise you 
to use the maple. Take the piece and lay it before you, with 
the 2^x33 uppermost, and draw the neck upon it, as in Fig. 1. 
This is the side view of the neck. Make the dimensions as 
follows: From A to B is 18 inches, A to « is 5 inches, B to 
iJ" is I inches, (^ to C is 2 inches, ^^i to D is |- inches, D to E is 
1 inch, E to F is f inches. The strip G is 10 inches long 
(for a 10-inch banjo) and 1 inch wide. From A to the peg 



OUR BOYS. 115 

hole, O, is 5^ inches. The thinnest part of the neck is about 
f of an inch in thickness. Make the drawing accurate and 
plain. Then saw or cut the surrounding wood away from the 
pattern. If you have access to a scroll saw in a factory it will 
take only a few minutes to do this, but as this is not very 
likely to. be the case you must saw and cut it out by hand. 
Work just up to the Hues, and do not be in a hurry. When 
you have cut it out lay it before you with the 2^x33 side up- 
permost, and proceed to draw the Fig. 2 upon it. This is the 




upper view of the neck and fingerboard. Make the dimensions 
as follows : From A to B, the finger board, is 18 inches, from 
A to (S; is 5 inches, from A to <^ is 5 1^ inches. The strip G is 
1 inch wide and 10 inches long. The width at A is If inches, 
the width at B is 2^ inches. At d it is 1^ inches wide, and 
then it takes a curve of J inch outward, so that immediately 
below d it is If inches wide. At B and C it is slightly curved 
so as to fit the head of the banjo. The upper part of the neck, 
a, in which the pegs are placed, may be drawn like the figure 
or the sides may be left straight. Cutting it like the figure 
looks neater, however, and requires only a little more work. 
After you have carefully drawn this figure proceed to saw or 
cut away the outside wood. Now you have the neck in a rough 
state. Theunder sideof the neck, Fto^, Fig. 1, should be nicely 
rounded and smoothed. The head, a, should also be rounded 
and smoothed. If you have a model to look at you will see 
how the edges are finished. Now take a | or a -y\ inch bit 
or drill and bore four holes in the head for the pegs to go in. 
The head, a, has a drop of about 1^ or 1| inches, so that the 
holes must be bored perpendicular with respect to the head. 
They are about 1| inches apart, and the lower two are about 
21 inches from the upper two. In boring these holes be care- 
ful not to split the wood. If you are afraid that you will split 



116 



OUR BOYS. 



the wood take a ^ inch iron rod and burn the holes through. 
In burning the holes you must be very careful, however, as it 
is quite difficult to get them perfectly round, and if they are 
not round the pegs will not fit accurately. Also bore or burn 
a hole in the side of the neck at O, Fig. 1, for the short side 
peg. Having put the finishing touches to the neck with fine 
sandpaper, so that it is all perfectly smooth, you can stain it. 
Either a mahogany or an ebony stain is good. For stain- 
ing the wood a mahogany color brush it two or three times with 
a strong boiling decoction of logwood chips, and when 
thoroughly dry put on two coats of brown shellac varnish. Then 
carefully sandpaper and polish it and put on a final coat of shel- 
lac varnish. For an imitation ebony stain wash the wood three or 
four times with a boiling decoction of logwood chips, allowing it 



A 






if \iMli> 



J^- 



to dry between each application. Then wash it with a solution of 
acetate of iron, which is made by dissolving iron filings in 
vinegar. This stain is very black, and penetrates to a con- 
siderable depth in the wood. The mahogany stain is very nice 
for the neck and hoop, while the trimmings, such as the pegs, 
tailpiece, etc., are stained in ebony. After you have the neck 
stained mark off the frets on the finger board, as shown in 
Fig. 3. 

You can get the raised metal frets and put them on, or you 
can simply mark them on the finger board. Most banjos have 
marked frets. The distance between the frets is given; the 
frets, or marks, are themselves y^- of an inch wide. From A, 
the upper end of the finger board, to the first fret is 1| inches. 
The distance between the 1st and 2d frets is ly^^- inches ; 
between 2d and 3d, l-f^', between 3d and 4th, 1-J-; between 
4th and 5th, ly^^ ; between 5th and 6th, 1 ; between 6th and 
7th, 11- ; between 7th and 8th, |; between 8th and 9th, i|; 
between 9th and 10th, f ; between 10th and 11th, |-|; between 
11th and 12th, f|-; between 12th and 13th, |; between 13th 



OUR BOYS. 



117 



and 14th, ^; between 14th and 15th, ^; between 15th and 
16th, ^ inch. 

The position dots are placed between the 4th and 5th, 
between the 6th and 7th, between the 8th and 9th, and between 
the 11th and 12th frets. At o a little hole, ^ of an inch in 
diameter and about ^ of an inch deep, must be drilled in the 
finger board to receive a short peg of hard wood 
with a small notch in the upper end for the short 



"^ 



^. 



string to pass over. This peg must be firmly 






3^ /^.--Co-^^ . 



fj^ 



5-. 



^ inches wide, and |- inch deep. This must be 



glued in the hole so that it will not come out. It should pro- 
ject above the surface about ^ of an inch. To mark the frets 
use indelible ink or oil paint. Use a color that will show 
plainly on the stained wood. In marking the frets you must 
be very accurate about the distances between them ; if you 
do not get them 
right the banjo will 
not be true. Hav- 
ing the frets all 
marked, take a 
piece of maple or 
other hard wood 14 
inches long, xe 

glued firmly to the neck at the upper part of the finger board 
at A for the strings to pass over. Cut four small notches in 
it. Fig. 4 shows it. This finishes the neck. 

Next we will make the hoop, which is rather a te- 
dious job. Take a smooth, straight grained strip of maple 
36 inches long, 2^ inches wide, and ^ inch thick. Four inches 
from each end, as shown in Fig 5, plane the ends down to a 
sharp edge, so that when bent in the form of a hoop, as in 
Fig. 6, the ends will overlap each other. 
Having done this, draw a circle 10 inches 
in diameter on a piece of paper. If you 
can get the strip steamed in a steam box so 
much the better, else you must bend it by 
J^6 " — heat. Take a medium sized goffering iron 

and place the heater in the fire till it is of a dull red color. 
Then replace the heater upon the standard. Hold the strip of 




118 



OUR BOYS. 




maple on the iron, keeping the upper side of the wood wet with 
cold water. Keep the wood in motion so that it will not be 
scorched too much. Occasionally hold the hoop to the circle 
marked on the paper to see if it has the required curve. When 
you have it bent to the required form glue the overlapping ends 
together and clamp them there tightly, and let it dry for about 
twenty-four hours. 

Now go to a dealer in musical instruments and buy a calf- 
skin head to put over the hoop. Get one of 12 inches, which 

^ij;!- will make a 10-inch banjo. 
■ ^^==:^ _5^'^,-uMA^ J ^j^^ calfskin head will cost 

r^ about twenty cents. You 
• can take the skin and tack 
it over the hoop, using round 
headed brass tacks and 
stretching it tightly. But 
a better plan is to get a strip of brass 34^ inches long, i inch 
wide, and -^ of an inch in thickness ; f of an inch from each 
end drill a hole through it and then bend the strip in a per- 
fectly round circle, or, rather, as nearly perfect as possible ; 
put a brass rivet through the holes j and rivet the ends firmly to- 
gether. Take a file and file the ends down, as shown in Fig. 7. 
Get about six, eight, or ten banjo brackets, which are used 
to keep the calfskin head stretched tightly over the hoop. 
Put the calfskin head on the hoop, and over the skin put the 
brass rim. Fig. 8 shows one of the brack- 
ets. Hook the hook A over the brass rim, 
then, at the right distance, drill a hole 
through the hoop large enough for the screw 
B to go through, when it can be fastened on 
the inside of the hoop by the nut C. Put the brackets at equal 
distances apart. The skin can be tightened by turning up the 
nut D with a small wrench or a pair of pliers. Now go to work, 
and f of an inch from the upper edge of the hoop cut a hole 1 
inch square for the strip G, Fig. 1, to go through. Do not 
cut it too large, but just large enough. At the opposite side 
of the hoop, where the end of the strip G comes, drill a hole 
through the hoop and into the end of the strip G, making the 




OUR BOYS. 



119 



^.9 



hole f of an inch in diameter and about 1 inch deep to receive 
the end pin, Fig. 9. Glue the end pin firmly in 
this hole so that it is not liable to be pulled 
out. Fig. 10 gives a back view of the banjo, 
showing the strip G running through the hoop. 

For the pegs take a piece of maple 
about ^ an inch thick and cut out four 
like Fig. 11, making the dimensions 
as follows : From B to C is li inches ; 
from C to A is 1 inch ; at B it is 1 of an 




A 




inch in diameter ; at C it is f of an inch in 
diameter. Make them as neatly as pos- 
sible, so that they will fit accurately in yi^. // 
the holes. Drill a hole about ^l of an inch in diameter through 
the pegs \ of an inch from the end B, for the strings to pass 
through. For the side peg make one a ^ inch shorter, as 
shown by the dotted line, and the hole for the string must be 
f^C' ~~^ ' \ 7^ ^^.jj^^ about ^ of an inch from C. The bridge, 
) \ / I Fig. 12, should be made of maple ^ of an 
inch in thickness. From A to B is 2 inches. 
.^*^. 1^ It is f of an inch high, and should be thinned 
down from ^ of an inch at the bottom to about ^ of an inch at 
the top. Cut five small notches in the top for the strings to 
pass through. Next cut the tailpiece. Fig. 13, 
from a piece of maple, making it 1|- inches 
wide from A to B, and If inches long from C 
to D. It should be about -^ o| an inch in 
thickness. Half an inch from the top drill five 
holes about ^ of an inch in diameter, for fast- 
ening the strings in. At the bottom drill two holes, so that it 
can be fastened to the end pin by means of a piece of catgut 
or string. 



1^ 




"^3-1^ 




120 OUR BOYS. 

This finishes the banjo, with the exception of the strings, 
which can now be put on. The bridge should be placed about 
two inches from the tailpiece. Smooth down any rough or 
uneven edges or surfaces. If you have a banjo to look at 
while working it will be a great help, though not absolutely 
necessary, as by paying close attention to the diagrams and 
the instructions you can get along very well. Do not be in a 
hurry, and do everything as well as you possibly can, and I 
think you will not be disappointed. 



AN AQUARIUM, AND HOW TO MAKE IT. 



THE aquarium as now in use, and intended chiefly for fishes,, 
depends in principle upon the relations existing between 
animal and vegetable life. It depends particularly upon the 
consumption by plants, under the action of light, of the car- 
bonic acid gas given forth by animals, and the consequent res- 
toration to the air or water in which they live of the oxygen 
necessary for the maintenance of animal life. The aquarium 
must, therefore, contain both plants and animals, and in some- 
thing like a proper proportion. 

They may thus with due care be kept in health and their 
habits observed. The water must be frequently aerated, 
which can be accomplished by taking up portions of it and 
pouring them in again from a small height. The fresh- water 

aquarium is frequently 
provided with a foun- 
tain, which produces a 
continual change of 
water; but even where 
this is the case the pres- 
ence both of plants 
and animals is advan- 
tageous to the health 
of both. Goldfishes, 
sticklebacks, and min- 
nows have the advan- 
tage of being more 
easily kept in good 
health than many other 
kinds; and a further 
recommendation i s 




Fig. r. 



^^&MXi^ AZJut^, 



found in their small size and in the fine colors of the goldfish. 
The nests of sticklebacks are a subject of unfailing interest. 
Some neighboring pond or river will supply you with specimens 
of both animal and vegetable life. Try to approach nature as 
closely as possible when stocking your aquarium. 



122 



OUR BOYS. 



Fig. 2. 



We will now proceed to make the tank, or aquarium proper. 
Get a sound, well-seasoned pine board li inches thick, 30 
inches long, and 18 inches wide. Draw lines on the board one 
inch from the edges and plane it 
to a bevel, as shown in Fig. 2. 
Take a one-inch auger and bore 
a hole at each corner through the 
board, as shown in the figure. 
Next make four round rods of 
pine 1 inch in diameter and 19|- 

inches long. Cut a groove in each, as in Fig. 3. 
The dark part is to be cut away for 18 inches, or up 
to within li inches of one end. The grooves are to 
hold the glass and cement. Fig. 4 gives a top view 
of the rods with the glass in place, the dark part be- 
ing the cement for making the corners water-tight. 
When you have the board and the four rods ready 
put the rods in the holes with glue, 
having the grooves all on the inside. 
Then get two panes of glass, double 
thickness, each 18x261 inches, and 




>H 



Fig. 3. 



Fig. 4- 



two panes each 18xl4|- inches. Put 



the glasses in the grooves and fasten them with a cement made 
as follows : Take litharge, 1 gill ; fine white dry sand, 1 gill ; 
plaster of Paris, 1 gill; finely pulverized resin, 4- gill. Mix 
thoroughly and make into a paste with boiled linseed oil to 
which dryer has been added. Beat it well, and let it stand 
four or five hours before using it. After it has stood fifteen 
hours, however, it loses its strength. Glass cemented into a 
frame with this cement is good for either salt or fresh water. 
Fig. 5 shows the glass cemented in the grooves ; the glass not 
coming quite together, the cement 
must be thoroughly worked in, as 
shown in the figure. By filling the 
spaces thoroughly the cement 
keeps the glass tightly in place. 

Next give the bottom of the 
aquarium a good heavy layer of fig. 5. 




OUR BOYS. 



123 



the cement, being sure to work it close up to the lower edges 
of the glass. When you have it all cemented let it dry for 
about twenty- four hours. While it is drying you can make 
the rails for putting on the top edges of the glass. Make four 
round rods of pine, one inch in diameter, and on each end 
cut away the wood for one inch in length and half an inch in 
thickness, as shown in Fig. 6. The dotted Hnes are the up- 
right rods. Make two of the rods each 28 inches long, and 
two each 16 inches long. Also cut a groove in these rods just 
like those in the upright posts, l- ^ — — pq 

Fig. 7 shows the way the rods or j : 
rails are to be put on the top edges ; i 
of the glass, the glass lying in the ; i 
grooves. At the corners, where Fig. 6. 

the rails meet, miter them as shown in Fig. 8, and tack each 
firmly to the upright post with a wire nail, or put in a thin 
screw. Round off the corners of the rails to correspond with 
the upright posts. Next take a strip of pine about half an 
inch square and plane it down to a triangular molding, as in 
Fig. 9. Cut two pieces each 27 inches long, and two pieces 



Q 



Q each 15 inches long. Fit these pieces 
between the upright posts, and, with fine 
wire nails, fasten them to the bottom 
board against the glass. This braces 
the glass at the bottom so that the pres- 
sure of the water will not burst it out. 
Go over all the woodwork and care- 

You can 



Fig. 7, 

This finishes the tank 
fully sandpaper it and smooth all rough edges 
now stain the wood any color you wish and give it a coat of 
varnish. To make a fountain in the aquarium bore a half-inch 
hole through the center of the bot- 
tom in which to insert a half-inch iron 
tube about 19 inches long ; and having 
a thread cut on the inside of the 
lower end, to which you can screw 
a hose connecting it with the reser- 
voir. Bore another half-inch hole 




Fig. 8. 
an inch from the center one, and insert a half-inch iron tube 



124 OUR BOYS. 

16 inches long and also having a thread cut on the inside of 
the lower end. This is the waste pipe, and the upper end 
should come to within about three and a half inches of the top 
of the tank, so that the water cannot rise higher than the top 
of this tube. A piece of hose or tubing must be screwed to 
the bottom of this tube to carry away the waste water. The 
center, or fountain, tube should have a stopcock near the up- 
per end, so that you can shut off and start the fountain at 
pleasure. Fig. 1 shows the aquarium with the fountain and 
waste pipe. The keg is the reservoir, and should be placed 
at least six feet higher than the top of the tank. 
A The fountain and waste pipes must be put in before 

you put the cement on the bottom, and the ce- 
FiG. 9. -^ ^ , . , , , 1 , 

ment must be put tightly around the tubes, so that 

there can be no leakage. If possible arrange it so that the 
pipes pass underneath the floor into another room where you 
have the keg or reservoir. Be sure to have the keg standing 
on a strong shelf or other support, so that it is not liable to 
come down. Such an aquarium can be constructed quite 
cheaply, at least much more cheaply than one of the same size 
would cost in a store. You may make it smaller or larger, 
but one of this size will be the best for an ordinary aquarium. 
Put in a couple of inches of lake or river sand cleansed of its 
impurities, some rock work, arranged so that the fishes can 
hide, and some pebbles. Do not overstock the aquarium. 
Dead animals or decaying vegetable matter should be removed 
at once. Keep it in a cool place, not too near natural or ar- 
tificial heat, and avoid all sudden changes of temperature. 
From such an aquarium as I have described I have derived 
much pleasure and profit by observing the wonderful habits 
and growth of aquatic animal and vegetable life. 



HOW TO GROW A MINIATURE OAK TREE 
IN A BOTTLE. 




Fig. I. 



HAVE you not often admired the stately 
oak tree? I will tell you, then, how 
you can grow a very interesting miniature 
oak in your window. In the autumn you 
can find beneath some oak multitudes of 
ripe acorns that have fallen amid the de- 
caying leaves. Select one that is large and 
well grown, and by means of a very stout 
needle run a strong thread through it so 
that the acorn will hang with the pointed 
end straight downward. Take a short, 
wide-mouthed bottle and suspend the acorn 
in it, placing the two ends of the thread 
over the opposite sides of the neck and 

fastening them by wrapping a few turns 

of fine thread or string around the neck 

of the bottle and then knotting it securely. 

Then pull upon the ends of the thread 

that runs through the acorn until it hangs 

fairly with the point downward in the 

center of the bottle. Now pour water in 

the bottle until it just touches the point 

of the acorn, but no more. Fig. 1 shows 

it. Cut a small piece of card, turn down 

the edges, and lay it over the mouth 

of the bottle. Now set the bottle and 

acorn in the window or on a bracket, and 

in a few days more or less, depending 

upon the warmth of the room, the shell 

will open at the point, and a long white 

root will grow downward into the water. 

This root will go on elongating for weeks. 

In a state of nature this would become the Fig. 2. 




126 • OUR BOYS. 

tap root of the oak, but as it cannot escape from its glass 
prison it goes on coiling itself round and round the inner side 
of the glass until a foot or more is crowded in the bottle and 
small roots grow from its sides. In a short time the upper 
covering of the acorn will split and a little green stem will force 
its way out, bearing delicate little leaves of the brightest green. 
The stem and leaves will grow with vigor, and an opening must 
be made in the card covering to allow the little oak to grow 
out in the open air. Fig. 2 shows the tree. This may all 
seem to be merely child's sport, but I assure you it will prove 
interesting for the older people as well. 




HOW TO SIT A HORSE. 



ANY of our readers are horsemen, and many more hope 
to be. The former will read these instructions to see 
if the writer knows anything about riding ; the latter will regard 
it, perhaps, as a first lesson. 

As the body must always be in a situation to preserve both 
seat and balance, we shall endeavor to make our instructions 
upon these heads as explicit as possible. For a firm, correct 
seat the thighs, turned inward, should rest flat upon the sides 
of the saddle without grasping, as the weight of the rider will 
give sufficient hold without such adventitious aid, which, in 
fact, only lifts the rider out of his saddle; the thighs, however, 
must be kept so firm that they will not roll or move so as to 
disturb the horse or loosen the rider's seat; but if the horse 
should hesitate to advance they may then be slightly relaxed. 
The knees must be kept back, and stretched down so as to 
throw the thighs somewhat out of the perpendicular, but no 
hold or grip should be taken with them unless the rider has 
lost all other means of holding on ; if the thighs are in their 
proper position in the saddle, the legs and arms will be turned 
as they should be — that is, they will be in a line parallel with 



128 OUR BOYS. 

the rider's body, close to the horse's side, but without touch- 
ing ; they may, however, sometimes give an additional aid to 
the seat by a grasp with the calves, and also assist the hands 
In like manner ; the toes should be raised, and the heels de- 
pressed and kept from galling the horse's side. The body 
should be held quite erect, and the shoulders kept square and 
thrown back, the chest advanced, and the small of the back 
bent rather forward. The upper part of the arms must hang 
perpendicular from the shoulders, close to the hips, and be 
kept steady without rigidity, else they destroy the hand. The 
hands should be held with the wrists rounded a little outward, 
about four or five inches apart, in front of the body, the 
thumbs and knuckles pointing toward each other, and the fin- 
ger nails to the body. 



HINTS ABOUT SWIMMING. 



WHEN a person becomes a good swimmer he does not 
need to trouble himself about rules, and gradually dis- 
penses with them. But a learner finds himself much helped 
by a few simple rules which are easily carried in the head and 
easily applied. The following are given for this purpose : 
1. Slow and steady. 2. Back of head on shoulders. 3. Spine 
well hollowed. 4. Breathe between strokes. The reason of 
this last injunction is that a beginner is apt to draw his breath just 
when he strikes out. Whenever he does so he is tolerably 
certain to get his mouth full of the water which ripples against 
the chest and the chin, and then to choke himself, and then to 
collapse and sink. . Therefore it should always be a rule that, 
as the legs strike, the lungs should expire the air that is in 
them, and so drive away the water that might find entrance. 
Few things disconcert a learner more than getting his mouth 
full of water, more especially if the water be salt. But if, in 
addition, he happens to be drawing a breath at the same time 
he is sure to be sadly affected with a choking cough for some 
time afterward. However, a slow and deliberate manner of 
swimming soon gets the better of these little difficulties. 

While lying on the back rapidly beat the water by alternate 
blows of the feet, taking care to keep them well pointed. If 
this is properly done the swimmer drives up a shower of spray 
like that from the paddle wheels of a steamboat, and at the 
same time propels himself through the water at some speed. 
We have known several swimmers who could race for a short 
distance in this manner a*hd beat one who swam in the ordi- 
nary fashion. 

It is always better to prepare for emergencies by prac- 
ticing them beforehand. Every swimmer should learn to swim 
easily while one arm is held entirely out of the water, or even 
when they are both held aloft. It would be well to keep an 
old heavy suit of clothes, consisting, say, of a great pea-jacket 
and thick woolen trousers. Accoutered in this paraphernalia 



!30 



OUR BOYS. 



accustom yourselves to jump into the water and to swim for 
some time, in spite of the heavy, dragging weight. Also, to 
dive after heavy weights, and bring them ashore. Also, to 
swim across the river with a boy sitting jockey fashion on your 
backs. Also, to practice the rescue of a struggling person. 
In this case the object of the one party should be to enact as 
accurately as possible the role of a drowning man and to drag 
under water the rescuer, while that of the other should be to 
catch the drowning man and get him to shore.. Many similiar 
exercises will suggest themselves to the bather as he improves 
in swimming. 




TO THE RESCUE. 



TO MAMMOTH CAVE ON A BICYCLE. 




N a reading book used in the public 
schools of Illinois was a charac- 
ter sketch in which reference was 
made by way of comparison to Mam- 
moth Cave. A footnote gave a short 
description of the cavern. When I 
read of that wonder I resolved that if 
I ever got old enough and big enough 
(which then seemed very doubtful) I 
would venture to explore it. In April 
last, having a bicycle and a vacation, 
and thinking that my size would 
justify the venture, I determined to 
carry out my youthful resolution and 
see the cave. 

Not being able to find company I resolved to go alone; 
strapped a small bundle over the handle bars, and, with the 
league handbook of Kentucky in my pocket, started from 
Cincinnati on my bicycle. A delegation from the Kenton 
Wheel Club piloted me by the best streets to the Lexington 
pike. The Chief Consul of the Kentucky Division of L. A. W. 
had given me some Information about the roads, and had 
written to league officers along the way that I was coming. 

The road to Florence leaves Covington with a steep hill two 
miles long, but "walking was good," and consoling myself 
with the thought that if the road always led up I would walk 
into heaven, and If It did not there would be good coasting, I 
trudged on. At the top of the hill the pleasure of the trip be- 
gan as we — my wheel and I — flew down the gentle slopes, up 
easy grades, past fine-looking farmhouses, green fields, and 
blossoming trees. The roadbed of the famous old Lexington 
pike is good, though not kept In as fine repair as formerly, and 
the hills are not troublesome as far as Wllllamstown. 

But from Wllllamstown to Sadieville the road resembles hills 



132 



OUR BOYS. 



that children draw; for every elevation there is a depression 
with a frequency and regularity that is disheartening. I spent 
one whole afternoon in going twelve miles. From Sadieville 
to Georgetown we skimmed over smooth roadbed, down long 
slopes at an exhilarating rate ; and from there on to Lexing- 
ton, in the heart of the blue grass region — called blue not be- 
cause the grass is any other color than green, but because it is 
so beautiful that the namers did not think green a good 
enough adjective ; showing that blue is a popular color. 







' RllSSB-LSHiCHftRDSOM 



The most beautiful and extensive tracts of farming lands 
east of the Rocky Mountains, I think, are the prairies of Iowa 
and the blue grass regions of Kentucky. Their rolling surface 
and beautiful color make them justly renowned. It is not sur- 
prising that fine horses flourish in such a country as is found 
around Lexington. Soil, grass, air seem to have been made 
for only the finest animals. 

Sunday spent in Lexington, resting and attending church 
(notwithstanding knickerbockers), made us fresh for a hard 
ride Monday ovei dusty roads against a strong south wind. 



OUR BOYS. 133 

At Nicholasville we turned to the right and took Shakertown 
pike to see the famous High Bridge. This bridge over the 
Kentucky River is picturesque, with its stone pillars forming 
portals at either end, its great height above the water, with the 
precipitous banks extending straight to the water's edge, and 
the green river winding silently below. It was for a time the 
highest bridge in the world. There are now many others I 
think, that are higher. 

While crossing the river below the bridge in a skifE a heavy 
rain began. If I had swum the river I would not have been 
wetter than I was in a few minutes. The nearest house was 
one where strangers are entertained, in the village of Pleasant 
Hill. This village consists of about one hundred and twenty 
Shakers, who live in two large brick gable-roof houses. While 
I was drying out before a stove one of the Shakers told me 
the history of the community, and explained their beHef in 
celibacy, virgin purity, and community of property. The men 
live in one side of the house, the women in the other; the 
farm supports them in summer, mats and basket work in 
winter. They seem to lead pleasant and peaceful lives. One 
of the sisters said that in twenty years there would be no 
Shakers. 

Next morning thirteen miles to Danville, a pleasant college 
town, was quickly made over dustless roads. There I per- 
suaded the league consul in that place to accompany me, and 
the next morning we fairly flew over almost perfect roads, but 
in the afternoon we struck road that was nothing but creek 
bottom, and night caught us eight miles from New Haven, 
in the country of the knobs — no farmhouses to stop at, no 
light with which to ride. A turn in the road brought us in 
sight of Gethsemane Abbey, a large, beautiful building about 
which we had heard along the way. 

It was suggested that we stop for the night. I objected be- 
cause we could get nothing to eat at an abbey, and no one is 
as anxious for something to eat as a man who has been riding 
a bicycle all day. But there was not much choice between 
walking eight miles up and down hill with an empty stomach 
and taking one's chance of a meal at a monastery; so we 



134 



OUR BOYS. 



dismounted and walked up a long avenue between tall English 
elms till we came to a small door in a stone wall where sat a 
doorkeeper. 

After hearing our errand the doorkeeper called within, and 
a closely shaven monk, with a bunch of keys jingling at the 




cord which confined his long loose brown gown in truly 
mediaeval monastic style, came, and led us through a small 
yard to a brick building. Supper was put on the table for us. 
When the monk withdrew, leaving us to eat, we saw for supper 
nothing but brown bread, dried apples, and something that 
tasted like flour and beans baked, we began to growl and de- 
clare that we would not stay there over night. Then we 
began to wonder whether, if we should use the plan Richard 



OUR BOYS. 135 

Coeur de Lion used with the hermit, it would have as good 
effect. 

But as we had not brought our lances, and as we had no 
armor to speak of, except our shirts and knickerbockers, we 
concluded to accept what was set before us. After we had 
hung around the table a while and our attendant had returned, 
we got to talking about convents and bicycles. We offered to 
teach the monk to ride a wheel, but he sadly shook his shaven 
head. When we considered his " Mother Hubbard " we 
thought him wise for shaking his head. 

The abbey, he said, is the only one the French Trappists 
have in America. Fifty thousand dollars was collected in 
Europe for building a monastery in America, but the money 
was stolen. Again, in '48, enough money was raised, and the 
buildings erected on a fine piece of farming land. The twenty- 
eight inmates busy themselves farming and doing such penance 
as sleeping on beds that are too short, rising at ghostly hours, 
fasting, etc. 

A bell rang. Our monk invited us to vespers. We fol- 
lowed through a smaller chapel, up a steep, narrow, dark pair 
of winding stairs, to the gallery of a large room built in the 
form of a Greek cross. The church is a fine Gothic structure, 
with a good deal of impressiveness and showing architectural 
skill. After service we were shown to our rooms, where there 
were neat iron couches that looked very inviting. About four 
o'clock we bade good-bye to the abbey and rode to New 
Haven for breakfast. 

The bridge over Rolling Fork was washed away, but, strap- 
ping our clothes on handle bars, we waded. After hanging 
ourselves out to dry, we started up a hill famous in that part 
of. the country for its steep two and a half miles. That night, 
having traveled about forty miles over sand hills and mud 
roads, we reached Hammondsville, a village buried with hills. 
A pouring rain the next morning made the clay so sticky that 
after every few steps we had to stop and dig the mud out of 
the forks, or the wheels would not budge. But learning that 
there was a ' * good pike ' ' six miles this side of Munf ordville 
-^where Bragg captured a Federal division in 1862 — we pressed 



136 OUR BOYS. 

on. We found marks of the war, but the "pike" proved to 
be a road made with twelve-inch bowlders not covered with 
dirt. Arrived at Cave City that night, my cyclometer reg- 
istered two hundred and fifty-three miles from Cincinnati ; had 
done some extra riding and been at it six days. Considering 
the roads, forty miles was not a small day's work. We had 
pushed our wheels where such machines had never been be- 
fore, and where wise men, knowing the condition of the roads, 
will not venture. Wheelmen will find it pleasant to wheel to 
New Haven, and from there to take the train. Karl Kron 
advises to stop at Louisville, but the roads are now good to 
New Haven. 

The effect of our wheels on some of the people who had 
never seen a bicycle before was amusing. Sometimes while 
riding along we would hear men who were at work away over 
in some fields begin to yell like wild men. Three darkies were 
walking down the middle of the road. I rang my bell. After 
their surprise was over one shouted, '* You ring dat bell for 
me to git out ob de road ? Choo ! choo ! choo ! young engine ! 
Ho! ho ! " and you could have heard them laugh for a mile. 
A negro explained to the crowd that the wheels were called 
"icicles," and a woman called her " old man" to "see dem 
fellars on flyin' skeeters." 

Whenever we stopped the crowd would gather and always 
ask the same questions. These are the answers in regular 
order (when we travel next we will have handbills with the 
answers numbered and printed on them) : 1. A bicycle. 
2. $142.50. 3. That is rubber; the other parts are metal. 

4. From fifty to one hundred miles per day on good roads. 

5. Rather tired. 6. That is a cyclometer. 7. Mammoth 
Cave. 8. Cincinnati. 

Everyone wanted us to " get on and ride," no matter what 
the road was. They thought we could ride anywhere. In 
answer to the question we told a man that we could ride over 
five-bar fences, through water up to our necks, up the scraggy 
side of a mountain. When we saw that there was danger of 
the man believing we had to tell him that we were reading 
Munchausen to him. 



OUR BOYS. 137 

Mammoth Cave is long. One is impressed with that fact 
before he has wandered over all of its one hundred and fifty 
miles of avenues. "Mammoth Dome" is impressive. The 
river and blind fish are attractions. But the cave has no 
beauty. The copper mines of Lake Superior region and the 
silver mines of Colorado are beautiful. The impressiveness of 
the cave is partly spoiled by the jabber of the guide as he calls 
the different parts by stale and misapplied mythological names. 



SKATING 



WHEN I was a boy (which, let me add, was a good deal 
less than half a century ago) the first skate meant a 
good deal of trouble. Nothing better than strap skates were 
known then, and even after those provoking straps, with their 
marvelous abilities for getting out of sight, had been found at 
last, and fitted to their places, the work was hardly half over. 
Holes had to be carefully bored in the center of the heels, and 
when sometimes, as a bright expedient, these holes were pre- 
pared at home, instead of at the margin of the pond, they were 




CURVES OF THE "DUTCH ROLL." 

sure to get filled up on the way with horrid little pebbles which . 
had to be painfully picked out again. And it was such a cold 
piece of work, first screwing on the skates, then fitting the 
straps, then buckling them up tight. Indeed many a time one 
would become so chilled before getting fairly started that it 
would take ten minutes' hard skating to warm up again. But, 
as the French say, the game was well worth the candle, and 
skimming along over the smooth ice, shouting for joy, or vying 
with one another in the noisy game of chase, the bother of get- 
ting ready was soon forgotten and the darkness came all too 
soon to warn us that skates must be unstrapped and the face 
turned homeward. 

Nowadays going a-skating means no trouble at all. No 
holes to bore, no straps to buckle, no numbed fingers, but just 



OUR BOYS. 139 

two light, graceful affairs of shining steel, which you fit to your 
feet and, pressing a spring — hey, presto ! click — your skates 
are on, and you are ofE for your afternoon's fun. 

Well, now that you have your skates so easily and securely 
fastened, what can you do on them? Can you swing grace- 
fully to and fro on the curves of the " Dutch roll," making 
marks along the ice like those in the figure, one foot crossing 
well over the other at each stroke, and the curves being as 
true as though your legs were compasses? Can you turn 
and do this backward as well as forward? Can you twine 
your feet in and out through the mazy evolutions of the grape- 
vine? 

-> ^^ 

.^^^^ 



If you cannot do the Dutch roll you have not mastered the 
first step in fancy skating, and you must practice away, think- 
ing light of tumbles, and having no fear of being laughed at, 
until, as an expert in Dutch rolling, you have crossed the pons 
asinorum of skating. Time and time again have I been asked 
by beginners, " What shall I learn first? " and my unvarying 
reply has been, "The Dutch roll." Master of it, you hold 
the key to all the rest, even the giant swing — one of the most 
difficult of " didos " — being in the main a complicated vari- 
ation of this step. 

It is, of course, impossible either by diagrams or descriptions 
to give a clear idea of the thousand and one feats which may 
be performed on skates. There are books, to be sure, which 
pretend to make skating easy, just as there are manuals which 
undertake to teach you French in a month, or music in a 
quarter ; but the only good instructor is somebody who knows 
all about it himself, and who has patience and kindness enough 
to take the trouble of teaching you. 

There is no royal road to skating, nor short cut either. To 
be expert you must serve an apprenticeship of many winters, 
putting in plenty of hard work, and putting up with numberless 



140 



OUR BOYS. 



hard knocks, for even after you have thoroughly mastered 
plain skating, both forward and backward, and overcome the 
difficulties of the Dutch roll and grapevine, every new ac- 
complishment will certainly cost you three good tumbles at the 
least. The number of different steps and figures that may be 
executed on the ice is limited only by the ingenuity and skill 
of the skater. There are, of course, certain well-defined 
figures from which a program is made up for competitions 
in fancy skating, but the contestants, as a rule, do all of these 



EXPLANATION. 

R. Right foot. 
L. Left foot. 
I. Inside edge. 
O. Outside edge, 
F. Forward. 
B. Backward. 



more or less easily. It is when they come to the " extras," 
that is, the inventions of their own fancy, that the struggle 
really begins and the excitement reaches its height. 

Of all trials of strength and skill in which men engage, 
nothing could be prettier or more interesting than a skating 
competition. With a crowd of enthusiastic spectators, a good 
long program of races, " didos," and "extras," and full lists 
of competitors of both sexes, there is enjoyment to be had of 
the healthiest, heartiest, and purest kind. The really marvel- 
ous ease with which most difficult and even dangerous feats can 
be executed, the smoothness and rapidity of the skaters* move- 
ments, the geometrical accuracy of the circles, curves, and 
straight lines cut upon the ice by their skillful feet, fill the 
beholder with wonder and delight. 




OUR BOYS. 141 

Combined figure skating, that is, the execution of certain 
well-defined figures by two or more skaters acting in harmony, 
is a very delightful amusement. Of course, only good skaters 
can take part, but when four well-matched partners, two of 
each sex, are thus engaged, doing some complicated figure of 
interlacing curves, the result afEords a fine illustration of the 
poetry of motion. 



BASEBALL. 



BASEBALL originated in the English schoolboy game of 
"rounders," but it has been so improved and so generally 
played as to merit its name of ' ' the national game of Amer- 
ica." It is a game in which 18 take part. The field should 
be perfectly level, and at least 350 feet wide by 500 long. 
There are 4 bases 90 feet apart, forming a perfect square, 
which is called the " diamond." The home base or starting 
point is at right angles with the first and third bases, with the 
second base on a straight line from the home base, and ex- 
actly 127 feet 4 inches distant, as is the first from the third 
base. The pitcher is placed in a square space of ground, 
marked of£ for him with lines, just 50 feet away from the 
home plate, and on a straight imaginary line with the home 
and second bases. The catcher, when there are none of the 



2ND BASE. 




H0IVIE<>PLATE. 
BATSMAN. 



CATCHER. 



DIAGRAM OF A BASEBALL "DIAMOND. 



opposing players on the bases, stands back from 75 to 80 feet 
in the rear of the home base, and receives the ball on the 
bound ; but on other occasions he comes up close to the bats- 
man, places a wire mask over his face, and straps an air pad 



OUR BOYS. . 143 

over his chest and stomach, to guard against injuries. A 
player is stationed at each one of the three bases, and desig- 
nated as first, second, and third basemen. There is another, 
known as the shortstop, stationed midway between second 
and third bases, while the three men in the outfield are called 
the right, center, and left fielders. Chalk lines are drawn 
from the home base to first and third respectively, and ex- 
tended to the boundaries of the field, or to a point where a 
flag is stationed, and known as the foul flag. All balls hit 
within these lines are fair, and those which are not are foul. 
The umpire is the sole judge on all questions during the prog- 
ress of a game. A ball that strikes fair ground in the infield 
and rolls into foul ground before it reaches first or third base 
is foul ; and if it strikes foul ground and rolls into fair ground 
before reaching either first or third bases, as the case may be, 
it is fair. All fair or foul balls caught on the fly are out, and 
when three men are out all are out. The game consists of 
nine full innings, unless the side last at bat has made more 
runs at the conclusion of the eighth inning than the opposing 
side scored at the end of their ninth. Besides putting the 
side out on fly-ball catches, they are also put out at first base 
on balls thrown to that point by any of the in or out fielders 
before the batsman, who becomes a base-runner the moment 
he hits the ball, reaches that point. They can also be put out 
before they reach the other three bases. 



THE BATTLE OF BOONETOWN. 




jHE village of Boonetown is a big 
place in its own estimation. It 
has a church, a post office run 
on strictly nonpartisan principles 
— ^the postmistress reading all 
postal cards impartially ; a pub- 
lic meeting room for the relief 
of windy citizens ; a brass band, 
gorgeously arrayed in blue and 
gold; a policeman and a base- 
ball club. 

It has" likewise a rival in the neighboring town of Grey- 
stone. It, too, has a baseball club. The character cor- 
rectly expresses the rival clubs' opinions of each other's 
ability. You can readily imagine the excitement in the two 
villages when the rival clubs resolved to cross bats for the 
championship. 

The game was played at Boonetown on a glorious afternoon 
in early October, when the leaves of the maples were just be- 
ginning to turn under the touch of the first frosts. A cool 
breeze blew down the field, which was still as fresh and green 
as in June. 

Before three o'clock the meadow lot was crowded with 
every man, woman, and child of the rival villages. Every 
tree bore its crop of small boys, who, like ripe fruit, now and 
then tumbled to the ground. To quote the words of the en- 
thusiastic local newspaper, ' ' the emerald diamond was sur- 
rounded by an eager ocean of faces." 

But hark ! the sound of music. Every neck cranes forward. 
Then burst upon their admiring gaze the splendor of the 
Boonetown band, marching proudly into the field with the 
sunlight sparkling along its brass instruments. But O the 
mighty shout that broke forth as the rival nines, marching 
three abreast, with bats at shoulder arms, entered the field ! 



OUR BOYS. US- 

All the pent-up patriotism and enthusiasm of the crowd was 
in that wild halloa. Over and over it went up, each time 
swelling in volume till the small boy hugged his branch with 
terror lest he be shaken from it by the thunder of sound. 

But now comes the momentous " flipping of the copper," 
and a hush of expectation falls upon the field. Even the band 
forgets to blare in the supreme anxiety of that moment. But 
it makes up for lost time by the barbaric burst of brazen music 
which greets the announcement that the Boonetowners have 
won the toss and are to take " the field." 

It would have done your heart good to see Johnny Gray, 
the grocer's son, take his place behind the bat. He wore a 
mask that made him look as though some evilly disposed per- 
son had strapped across his face one of the wire screens with 
which his father protected his apple barrel from the fingers of 
the pilfering small boy. But he was totally eclipsed when 
Jakey Riggs advanced to the plate with the blase air of a 
" League " pitcher. Balancing the ball gingerly on the tips 
of his fingers, he whirled halfway round and sent it in like a 
streak of lightning at the man at the bat. A yell of wild joy 
broke from Greystone's throat as a sky scraper went sailing 
out to center field. But it died away in a groan as the center 
fielder, cool and calm, gathered the ball to his bosom as lov- 
ingly as if it were a baby. The next two men went out on 
strikes, and the Greys sought the field with a decidedly white- 
washed look upon their once glowing faces. 

Johnny Gray was the first to face the twists of the famous 
Greystone pitcher. He picked up a bat to inspiriting cries of 
"Sock it to 'em, Johnny! " " Knock the leather off it ! " 
But he bit the dust ignobly when one of the famous curved 
balls went straight to the center of his anatomy. He was 
finally unraveled and given his first base, but was put out while 
trying to steal second, which catastrophe he ascribed to the 
condition of his " in'ards." The next two men retired, one 
on a foul tip, the other on a fly catch, leaving the score to 
at the end of the first inning. 

And so the battle raged, and the end of the eighth inning 

found both sides without a run. 
10 



146 OUR BOYS. 

The ninth inning opened amid profound silence. Even the 
band forgot to blow, so intense was the interest. Greystone 
marched up to the plate with blood in its eye, but, after the 
manner of the noble Duke of York with his three thousand 
men, marched valiantly back again. The strikers went out in 
one-two-three order, and darkness settled upon the spirits of 
Greystone. 

Not so Boonetown. Every eye was bright with hope, every 
pulse throbbed with expectation. Jimmy Dalton was the first 
to toe the line. Jimmy was the telegraph operator, but for 
this particular day the telegraph was permitted to click un- 
heeded while he upheld the honor of his native town. He 
stepped to the plate amid a perfect storm of adjurations to go 
in for all he was worth. Carelessly he picked up a bat, care- 
lessly he glanced along it, weighed it, spat on his hands, and 
called for a waist ball. He got it, and a daisy cutter went 
humming between first and second bases. Shortstop and sec- 
ond both started for it, and so intent were they on the ball 
that neither saw the other. The result was a collision, while 
the ball rolled peacefully down the field. Jimmy flew round 
the bases amid a perfect cyclone of catcalls, cheers, and hisses. 
He reached third base. The crowd yelled for him to run 
home. He hesitated, drew a long breath, and started. So 
did the ball, and both arrived at about the same instant. Im- 
mediately the whole field was in an uproar. Loud cries of 
"Decision!" "Umpire!" "Judgment!" were heard on 
every hand. The poor umpire was a picture of misery and 
despair. Angry faces surrounded him on all sides. The 
Greys came in from the field and stood threateningly on one 
side of him. The Boonetowners, equally fierce and deter- 
mined, completed the circle. Before, behind, everywhere 
surged the angry crowd, heedless of the efforts of the one- 
eyed policeman to preserve the peace. It was a critical mo- 
ment. The umpire, a Boonetown man, looked appealingly, 
deprecatingly at Greystone, and decided " Not out." 

Would that I could paint the scene that followed ! Par- 
rhasius, when he wished for power to paint a dying groan, had 
never heard the groan of a baseball crowd, or he would have 



OUR BOYS. 147 

died in his despair. Women shrieked, children screamed, and 
angry men shook their fists in each other's faces. But the 
umpire stood firm ; and, being backed up by the club of the 
solitary policeman, Greystone's captain drew his men together 
in gloomy silence, and, followed by their entire village, they 
marched with great dignity from the field. 

It was the " wee sma' hours " of the night before Boone- 
town settled down to its accustomed quiet. But the story of 
the battle still lives, and should you chance to spend a winter's 
night in that triumphant city you will doubtless hear from an 
eyewitness the story of Jimmy Dalton's famous run which 
decided the battle of Boonetown. 



FOOTBALL. 

FOOTBALL is a game in which alarge light ball of leather or 
ox bladder, filled with air, is kicked around a field. It may 
be played by any even number of persons divided into two sides . 
A large level piece of ground or lawn is marked off with goal 
lines at each end, and the game is played in the intervening 



B 


p p 

A 1 1 A 


B 


T : 

X 

o 

T : 


F ^« F 

X0 

c 

F '• F 


T 
T 


B 


A i i A 
P P 


B 



Plan of the Football Field. 

AA, goal lines ; PP, goal posts; P, field of play ; C, center of play; 
TT, lines of touch ; B, touch in goal (for Rugby union game). 1, 1, 
rushers ; 2, 2, quarter backs ; 3, 3, half backs ; 4, i, full backs. 

space by each side of players endeavoring to kick the ball to 
the goal of their opponents and to keep it from their own goal. 
In all games of football the object is to drive the ball toward 
the opponent's goal and score a " goal." The ground from 



OUR BOYS. 149 

goal to goal should not be less than 100 yards in length, nor 
more than 200 yards. Its width from touch line to touch line 
should vary from 50 to 100 yards, according to length. The 
lines of touch are marked out by four flags for each line. The 
goal is formed of two upright posts, the aim being to drive 
the ball between the posts. Two side lines, called goal lines, 
are drawn from each of the goals, and the boundary of the 
ground on each side is marked by a line called touch line. 
The opposing players take position opposite each other at dif- 
ferent ends of the field. The game is decided by the number 
of goals won in a certain time, which is divided into equal 
parts, after each of which the players change ends. A goal 
may be won by a drop kick (letting the ball fall from the 
hands and kicking it the instant it rises) over the adversary's 
goal, or by a place kick resulting from a totichdown (putting 
the hand upon the ball to make it dead) or fair catch (a 
catch direct from a kick, or a throw forward, or a knock on, 
by the opposite side) . The touch down is as follows : Any 
player who catches the ball before it has touched ground, or 
on the bound, may run with it till he gets behind the ad- 
versary's line of goal, where he will touch it down as near 
as he can to the goal, if possible between the posts. This 
is called running in, and secures the right of a place kick at 
the goal, from any spot, outside the goal line in a straight 
line from where the touchdown was made. When the ball 
is touched down behind the goal line, but not near the goal, 
a different mode, called the punt out, is adopted. When the 
ball crosses the touch line at the side of the field it is lifted 
and thrown out in a straight line, to be secured by either 
side. Holding or carrying the ball is prohibited, and no one 
is allowed to use his hands except the goal keepers, to pro- 
tect the goal. 



CAPTAIN BESS, 

OR, HOW THE FOOTBALL GAME WAS WON. 

i^::^if^ DON'T see how we can ever 
beat them, Cliff. They have a 
college fellow for center rusher, 
and he'll teach them tricks that 
we country boys never heard of. 
We can run and kick and pass 
well enough, but we lack science." 
In this despondent mood spoke 
Jack Hornby, captain and 
' * quarter back ' ' of the Rugby 
football eleven of the Elston High 
School. His hearers were his 
fellow-players, Will Thorpe, Tom 
Green, and Cliff Alden. The four 
boys had gathered in Mrs. Horn- 
by's sitting room after school to 
talk over the coming game with 
the Pittsfield eleven. There was a 
sharp business rivalry between the two towns, and the boys who 
battled twice a year — at baseball in June, at football in 
November — felt themselves knightly defenders of the honor of 
their respective villages. Last June Jack Hornby at shortstop 
had broken a finger in a vain attempt to stop the hot liner 
which had brought in the winning run for Pittsfield in the last 
half of the tenth inning, and all summer that crooked finger 
beckoned him on to the time when a football victory should wipe 
out the tormenting memory. There were only ten days now 
before the game, but reports from the enemy's camp were 
startling. Jack himself had begun to doubt. 

" No," admitted Cliff Alden, " the prospect isn't brilliant; 
but don't you think we can get up a scheme that'll fool even 
a college freshman? — for that's all this wonderful Potter is. 
I saw him at Kennebunk last summer. He isn't any bigger 
or stronger than you, Will, and can't play baseball half as 




OUR BOYS. 151 

well. They've got him just to frighten us, but I won't be 
scared by a 'freshy.' Where's that book of rules, Tom? 
Now rack your brains, boys. We must beat them, and that's 
all there is to it." 

For ten minutes the boys talked and argued, drew diagrams 
of the field, and concocted stratagems for outwitting their foe. 
Bess Hornby, Jack's pretty sister, found them so busily oc- 
cupied that they did not notice her entrance. And what if 
they had ! A girl at such a time is only a bother. 

It was well known that Jack, the quarter back, could outrun 
any boy in Pittsfield. If he had the ball and a fair field 
nobody could catch him. Tom Green at half back could be 
trusted to kick the goals if the touchdowns were forthcoming ; 
Will Thorpe was strong and vigorous — as he needed to be to 
fill his position at center rush, opposite the dreaded freshman. 
By his side in the rush line was ClifE Alden, active and 
muscular. These four were the strength of the Elston eleven, 
and when they began to despair of victory the case was indeed 
desperate. Bess, ever loyal to Elston and devoted to her 
brother, heard their conversation, and, seeing their perplexity, 
generously offered her word of advice. 

"O, Cliff," she said, breaking into the discussion, "Will 
always rolls the ball back to Jack when you stand in line, and 
he throws it to somebody else. Now, why don't you have 
my brother run with it sometimes? He — " 

But she had said enough. 

"Nonsense, Bess. You don't know anything about foot- 
ball," said Captain Jack. 

" I thought even a girl knew that the quarter back can't run 
with the ball," said Will, with withering scorn. 

"Why can't he?" inquired the girl, who was accustomed 
to such outbursts from her brother and his friends, and did 
not shrivel perceptibly before their sarcasm. 

" Because the rules say he can't," said Will, conclusively, 
fortifying himself by reading : 

"Rule 29. — The man who first receives the ball when 
snapped back . . . shall not carry the ball forward under any 
circumstances whatever." 



152 OUR BOYS. 

" There, Captain Bess," said ClifE, " we are pretty hard up 
for ideas, but we're not so far gone that we can learn any- 
thing from a girl." 

" Don't you see, Bessie," explained Tom Green, "that the 
rule forbids Jack to run with the ball ? ' ' 

"No, I don't see it at all," returned Bess. "But I see 
something else. The rule says that the one who first receives 
the ball can't run with it. Why can't Cliff just touch the ball 
and then pass it to Jack? " 

" Why not, fellows? " cried Cliff. 

"He can! he can! " shouted Will. "Where's that ball? 
Line up, fellows; let's try it." 

The ball was brought out, and there, on Mrs. Hornby's 
carpet, the maneuver was tried under the proud supervision of 
" Captain " Bess. Will put his foot on the ball, and at the 
signal rolled or "snapped " it back as usual to Jack, crouch- 
ing just at his heels. But — and just here was the trick — be- 
fore the ball reached Jack's hands it had been touched for an 
instant by Cliff Alden, who stood at Will's right hand. 

Thus the rule was satisjfied, and the quarter back was free 
to take the ball as near the goal as his nimble feet could carry 
him. After a little practice the play worked smoothly, and 
when Jack's mother came in she found the boys and her 
daughter radiant with hope and eager for the day of the great 
match. 

Every night after school the Elston eleven played a practice 
game with a "scrub " team, but sundry private and more im- 
portant rehearsals were held in secluded back yards where no 
keen-eyed visitors from Pittsfield could penetrate. There was 
only one spectator of these mysteries — "Captain" Bess 
Hornby — and the precious ' * quarter back trick ' ' was never 
used in the public practice. The boys devised a code of sig- 
nals by which the captain could give his orders in the field 
without warning the enemy of his intentions. " Now, Tom, 
for a kick! " was Jack's signal for " Bessie's trick." The 
other side would think this a warning to the half back to be 
ready to receive and kick the ball, and Jack's new departure 
for their goal would take them by surprise. Every precaution 



OUR BOYS. ISS' 

had been taken to preserve secrecy, and the day of the match 
found Bess and the boys confident of victory. 

At two o'clock the rectangular field was already surrounded 
by a great throng in carriages and on foot. All Elston had 
turned out, and Pittsfield had brought along East Pittsfield to 
swell the applause for the black and red. The Hornby car- 
riage was gay with the blue and white of Elston and with the 
bright faces of Bess and a party of her friends. The Pittsfield 
players, who came out first, were greeted with a roar of 
cheers from one side of the field, and before that had died 
away the appearance of Captain Jack and his braves called out 
a louder and longer shout from the friends of the blue and 
white. 

Captain Hornby and Captain Burt met and shook hands 
gravely in the middle of the field and settled the preliminaries 
of the game, while their men ran about to limber up. The sun 
and wind were neutral, so Pittsfield, who had won the toss of 
a cent, took the kick-of6 and Jack's men took the eastern half 
of the field. The neatly dressed gentleman who was to 
referee the game handed the ball to Captain Burt, and then 
with a single syllable let loose the dogs of war. 

"Play! " rang out the referee's voice. The Pittsfield center 
rusher — the awful freshman, Potter — touched the ball daintily 
with his foot, then picked it up, and, tucking it under his arm, 
started for the east, or Elston, goal. Started, I say, for before 
he had taken the fourth stride a pair of blue and white arms 
were around his waist and he was down. The seven rushers 
of each side quickly lined up, and the ball was passed to a 
Pittsfield half back, whose foot sent it whirling over the heads 
of the rushers. It descended into the arms of Griggs, the 
Elston full back, whose duty it was to guard the goal. But, 
alas! it went through his arms, and in a twinkling a Pittsfield 
player had dropped upon it. The rushers lined up now only 
ten yards from the goal line and squarely in front of the 
posts. 

" Hold hard, Pittsfield! " shouted Captain Burt. 

" Get through and stop the kick ! " yelled Captain Hornby. 

Again the ball was snapped back, and before an Elston 



154 OUR BOYS. 

man could reach him the half back's skillful drop kick had 
sent it over the bar and between the posts. Pittsfield had 
scored a goal from the field, counting five points. Pittsfield 
and her suburb applauded accordingly. 

Surprised, but by no means disheartened. Captain Hornby 
and his men renewed the struggle. They played more warily 
now, and for some time kept the ball near the middle of the 
field. Then they worked it into Pittsfield 's half. But their 
best efforts failed to place it within twenty-five yards of the 
coveted goal. The first of the two innings closed with the 
score still five to nothing against them. 

In the intermission Cliff and Jack went to the Hornby 
carriage to encourage its anxious occupants. 

" Don't fear, Bess," said her brother. "They are getting 
tired, and in this inning we'll work the ball near enough to 
— to win," he said, abruptly closing his sentence as the Pitts- 
field captain came up. 

In the second inning Pittsfield changed her style of play. 
After once securing the ball she used every means to keep it, 
never kicking and taking no risks. If she could carry out this 
" block " game until time expired the victory was hers. Jack 
saw it and urged his men to greater efforts. Bess saw it and 
feared the worst. She knew that her brother's eleven was 
doing its best and losing. 

So the time went on. The anxious look on Captain Burt's 
face softened a little at the referee's warning, 
. *• Only eight minutes more! " 

Jack was desperate. The ball must be captured at all haz- 
ards. Abandoning all pretense of defending his own goal, he 
put all his men in the rush line. The temptation of that un- 
protected goal and a big score was too much for Captain Burt's 
judgment. He gave the signal for a kick. For a moment 
the two lines strained breast to breast, and then the ball was 
put in play. The next moment the ball and Jim Griggs, the 
luckless Elston full back, were flying toward the waiting 
"half." The half muffed, and Griggs dropped on the 
leather. 

The crowd was too nervous to shout. 



OUR BOYS. 155 

*' In line there, quick! " shouted Jack, trembHng with ex- 
citement. 

"Now, Tom, steady for a kick," in the same clear voice. 

Tom braced himself to receive the ball. The red and black 
line swooped down upon him. But the ball — where was the 
ball? 

'• Jack, Jack! " was the shout. The quarter back had the 
ball and was flying down the field. The goal-tender made a 
lunge for him, but Jack dodged and placed the ball in triumph 
on the ground behind the posts. 

"Foul!" cried Captain Burt. "The quarter back can't 
run." 

"Foul! " thundered all Pittsfield and all East Pittsfield in 
one voice. 

The referee called time and listened to the opposing claims. 
Then he told how he had seen ClifE touch the ball before Jack 
started with it. The Pittsfielders were amazed. The freshman's 
eyes opened wide. 

"It is a touchdown for Elston," decided the referee. 
" Three minutes more. Play! " he shouted. 

The touchdown counted four points, and unless the goal 
were kicked from it Pittsfield would win. 

Jack brought the ball straight out fifteen yards, then lay 
down at full length and held the ball out the length of his two 
arms and an inch from the ground, aiming it carefully at the 
two posts and crossbar which formed the goal. Tom was to 
make the kick. He took the range with his eye. 

" Cock her up a little, Jack," he said. Jack carefully 
elevated the point of the ball. 

" Two minutes more," said the referee. 

'" Lacings out," directed Tom. 

Jack altered slightly the position of the ball. 

Tom glanced approvingly from the leather egg to the cross- 
bar and then said, 

" Let her down." 

Jack touched the ball to the ground, and Tom's kick sent 
it sailing over the bar. 

" Goal! " said the referee. 



156 OUR BOYS. 

"Quick, boys. We'll win yet!" said plucky Captaia 
Burt. 

••Time's up ! " said the referee, adding, in a voice which 
was lost in a tumult of cheers, " Score six to five in favor of 
Elston." 

The crowd broke through the ropes and, lifting the victors 
upon their shoulders, bore them about in triumph. The van- 
quished gathered in a doleful knot and gave three dispirited 
cheers for the Elston High School eleven. 

"Come together here at our carriage," was the word which 
Jack Hornby passed to his men. They formed a circle about 
the leader, and Captain Jack, his face glowing with pleasure,^ 
led the cheering for the defeated team. Then Cliff Alden 
stepped into the circle, and, doffing his worsted cap, swung it 
over his curly head as he proposed, 

'• Three times three and a tiger for Captain Bess, the girl 
who saved the day ! ' * 



CRICKET. 

THE origin of this noble game is an unsettled subject of 
dispute among those who claim to know all about it. 
Some authorities would have it to be little more than a century- 
old. Others put it seventy or eighty years still far- 
ther back, while the Rev. J. Pycroft, whose opinion 
ought to go for a good deal, makes out a strong case 
for the thirteenth century, when he says it was played 
under the name of "club-ball," in a very simple 
manner, from which it developed by a natural proc- 
ess of evolution, precisely as baseball did from 
" rounders." 

When first known as * ' cricket ' ' it was played 
with two wickets only twelve inches high, but byway 
of compensation full two feet apart, while between 
them was a hole as big as a basin scooped in the 
ground, which answered somewhat the same purpose 
as the "home plate," for if the wicket keeper suc- 
ceeded in putting the ball in it while the batter was 
making a run, or otherwise out of his ground, the un- 
lucky batter had to step down and out. 

After a while a third stump two feet in length was 
laid across the other two as a target for the bowler, 
and in 1780 the width between the wickets was re- 
duced to six inches. Next year the third stump was 
stuck in the ground beside the others, instead of on 
top of them, and their height increased to twenty- 
two inches. Finally, about 1817, the wickets were made 
twenty-seven inches high and eight inches wide, and two small 
sticks, called "bails," were laid on top of them; and since 
then no further changes have been made. 

The bat has gone through some changes too. Previous to 
1745 there was no rule as to size, and cautious players went 
on increasing the width and height of their bats until a cer- 
tain Mr. White brought matters to a crisis by appearing in a 



158 



OUR BOYS. 



match with a gigantic bat which completely covered the wicket 
— a "regular barn door," with a venge- 
ance. Thereupon the rule was made 
which still continues in force that this 
"mighty scepter of delight," as Felix 
enthusiastically calls it, should be not 
more than thirty-eight inches in length 
nor four and a quarter in width. Of the 
length twenty-five inches are taken up by 
the blade and thirteen by the handle. 
There are several kinds of bats, the best 
being those which have cane and whale- 
bone handles set in a willow blade, which 
should, so far as possible, be free from 
knots or flaws, and have a straight, even 
grain. 

The present style of ball, with the ex- 
ception of some very slight modifications, 
seems to have been in use since cricket 
assumed anything like its present form. 
It must not be more than nine inches in 
circumference, nor weigh more than five 

and three fourths nor less than five and one fourth ounces. It 
is sewn with a treble seam and has a much thicker 
'' cover than a baseball. 





Having thus briefly described the articles required 
for a game of cricket, which will be better understood, how- 
ever, by a glance at the figures, I will try to give some idea of 
the game itself, having in mind more particularly those who 
have never played it themselves, or possibly have never seen 
a game played. 

Cricket may be played either single wicket or double wicket, 
but it is now so rarely played in the former manner that we 
can safely confine our attention to the latter. For a double 
wicket match game eleven players on a side are necessary, 
and after the captains have tossed to settle who shall go to the 
bat first the loser places his field and the winner sends in two 
of his surest, safest batters to defend the wickets and to make 



OUR BOYS. 



159 



runs. The disposition of the field will depend upon the style 
of bowling, whether it be fast, medium pace, or slow, and I 
have accordingly prepared two diagrams, by studying which 
the reader will get a pretty clear idea of how the fielders are 
placed, and what dangers the batsman has to guard against 
when compiling his runs. A distance of twenty-two yards 
separates the wickets, and by this scale the relative positions 
of the players may be easily estimated. 

The field having been duly placed, the batsmen having 
taken their stand, with legs carefully protected by pads and 
hands by ingenious rubber gloves, the umpire calls "play," 
and amid a thrilling hush of expectation the bowler sends 
down his first ball. After five balls have been delivered from 
one wicket the umpire calls "over," and the whole field 
changes about until the position of the men bears the same 
relation to the other wicket that it did to the one first bowled 
against. This calling out of " over," and consequent change 
of field, gave some quick wit the opportunity to say that 
cricket was a very queer game, because it had hardly begun 
before it was over. 



2 

JL 



,.jl 



u 1 

FAST BOWLING. 



■•7 



s. 


Striker. 


4- 


Short Slip. 


1. 


Bowler. 


5- 


Point. 


2. 


V^''icket Kepper. 


6. 


Long Slip. 


3- 


Long Stop. 


7- 


Mid-Wicket On. 
U. Umpire. 



8. Long Off. 

g. Cover-Point. 

10. Third Man Up. 

11. Long Leg. 



160 



OUR BOYS, 



e. 



4, 



9. 



2. 



.^^•^ 



V 



&•■ 






V 



•10 



S. Striker. 

1. Bowler. 

2. Wicket-Keeper. 

3. Long; Stop. 



MEDIUM PACE BOWLING. 

4. Short Slip. 

5. Point. 

6. Long Slip. 

7. Long On. 
U. Umpire. 



8. Long Off. 

9. Cover-Point. 
ID. Mid-Wicket On. 
II. Leg. 



In this diagram Third Man Up is made Mid-Wicket On, while Cover-Point comes 
in nearer than when the bowling was very fast. 

Five balls constitute an •' over," and these overs continue 
to be bowled from alternate ends by different bowlers until 
the whole eleven players have tried their hand at the bat and 
been disposed of. 

Runs are made by the batsman driving the ball far enough 
away to give him time to change places with the other batter 
before the ball returns. Each change constitutes a run, and 
in matches in England it has sometimes happened that one 
batsman has made over four hundred runs in this way. Six 
is the largest number of runs that can be made from a single 
hit, that being what is allowed when the ball is driven clear out 
of the grounds. 

The business of the bowler is to try in every possible way 
to knock down the wickets in front of which the batsman 
stands, or else to tempt him into hitting the ball up into the 
air so that it may be caught on the fly by one of the fielders. 
Besides being bowled or caught out a batter maybe "run 
out," that is, have his wickets knocked down by the ball while 



OUR BOYS. 161 

he is Dusy making a run; or he may be "stumped out," 
which is to have the same thing happen when he incautiously 
steps out of his ground to hit at an unusually tempting ball. 

The ball comes to the batter on the first bounce, and the 
bowler's skill is shown in varying the pitch, speed, and direc- 
tion of the ball so that the batter may become bewildered and 
fail to defend his wickets. The best kind of bowling is what 
is known as " bowling with a break," the peculiarity of which 
consists in that the ball after striking the ground does not con- 
tinue straight on, but swerves sharply to the right or left like 
a "cut" tennis ball, a kind of bowling, therefore, which 
bears much the same relation to the ordinary that ' ' curve 
pitching " does to the old-fashioned style. It is not easy to 
acquire, and few have the art in perfection. 

The great point in batting is to play with a straight bat, that 
is, so far as possible to swing the bat at right angles to the 
ground, the advantage thereby gained being that the wickets 
are more completely covered, and there is less liability of giv- 
ing a catch. Next in importance is to play forward, that is, 
to meet the ball as far forward as you safely can, and not 
wait for it to come right upon you. Thirdly, it should be the 
batter's aim to play low; in other words, to hit as many 
"grounders" or "daisy-cutters" as possible, for they are 
harder to field, and give no chance for a catch. The player 
who has these three principles well instilled and can put them 
into practice is bound to run up large scores. 

Cricket is by no means so exciting a game as either base- 
ball, football, or lacrosse, and has the further disadvantage of 
requiring more time both for practice and for playing than the 
other three. In fact, it is essentially a game for those who 
have more or less abundant leisure, and consequently, on this 
continent, at all events, where time seems so much more 
precious than in Great Britain, its votaries must always be lim- 
ited in numbers. Two whole days at least are required for a 
first-class two-innings match, and three and even four days' 
matches are not uncommon in England. Canada, as befits a 
loyal British colony, supports the game enthusiastically, and 
there are clubs in every city, town, and village from Halifax 
11 



162 OUR BOYS. 

to Victoria, B.C. In the United States the two chief homes 
of cricket are Philadelphia and Boston, although there are 
good clubs at New York, Detroit, and elsewhere, and also at 
some of the larger universities. 

There is one thing to be said on behalf of cricket which can 
hardly be said of any other kindred game, namely, that so far 
it has remained uncontaminated by the gambling element, and 
this is no small boast. What cricket lacks in intensity of ex- 
citement it gains in dignity and purity, and if there ever 
should come a revulsion from the present almost frantic pas- 
sion for baseball it will be strange if men do not turn to the 
noble game of cricket and bestow upon it the attention it so 
worthily merits. 



LACROSSE. 

IN the matter of age no field game in vogue upon this con- 
tinent has so much whereof to boast as lacrosse, for it 
was played with tremendous energy and wonderful skill many 
years, and perhaps even centuries, before the foot of the first 
white man pressed, American soil. The simple truth is that 
no one knows, or will ever be able to find out, just how old 
the game is, it being an Indian invention, and Indian tradi- 
tions being about as reliable as fish stories and ' ' special corre- 
spondence." 

When Cartier came to Canada he found the Indians as en- 
thusiastic over the game as the modern American is over base- 
ball, and it was one of his party who, noticing the resemblance 
the stick used bore to a bishop's crosier, gave it the name of 
la crosse, which, united into one word, has denominated the 
game ever since. 

There is a good deal of difference tetween the way the 
Choctaws, the Ojibways, the Iroquois, and the Algonquins of 
those old days played lacrosse and the way it is played now. 
For one thing the stick was very different, as will be seen by 
looking at 




Diagram r, 

while the ball was made of stuffed deer-hide instead of rub- 
ber. Then there seemed to be no limit as to the number of 
players, Catlin stating that he saw it played by 600, 800, or 
even 1,000 at a time. The goals, too, were either a single 
pole or two stakes twenty-five feet high and six feet apart, 
with a line across the top, and set from five hundred yards to 
half a mile distant from each other. Matches, instead of be- 
ing decided by the best three games out of five, consisted of 
ten, twenty, or one hundred games, and often lasted two or 
three days ; while the ground, instead of being smooth and 



164 



OUR BOYS. 



level as a floor, was generally some forest glade or natural 
meadow, with none of its pristine roughness removed. So 
that it is clear the game has gained a good deal since it came 
into the hands of the white men ; and although a ' ' paleface ' ' 
team would no doubt make a very poor show against a team 
of dusky braves in a game played in the ' * good old-fashioned 
way," any one of the leading Canadian clubs can put a twelve 
into the field to-day which can easily vanquish the very best 
of the Indian players under the modern rules. 

And yet it is not much more than thirty years since lacrosse 
first came into vogue among the whites, and only twenty years 
have passed since the suggestion of Dr. W. G. Beers, of Mon- 
treal (whose delightful brochure has been of great assistance 
to me in the preparation of this article), that it be adopted as 
the national game of Canada, met with ready acceptance, and 
the same day which saw the creation of the Dominion of Can- 
ada saw also the adoption of lacrosse as the national game. 

So much for the history of the game ; now to try and give 
some idea of how It Is played. The Indian lacrosse has been 
already referred to. The modern "stick" Is quite a dif- 
ferent affair. The handle is made of ash, hickory, rock- 
elm, or basswood, and the netting is of "catgut." The la- 
crosse must not exceed one foot in width at the widest part, 




1. Tip. 

2. Top. 

3. Bend. 

4. Collar or Peg. 

5. Butt. 



6. Leading string. 

A. Head and surface of netting. 

B. Center surface of netting. 

C. Lower angle. 



but nine inches is found to be the most serviceable and con- 
venient width. There is no restriction as to length, but the 
measurement most likely to suit all parties Is from the toe 
close into the hollow under the arm. The ball Is made of 
solid rubber, and must not be less than eight nor more than 
nine inches in circumference. It bounces very readily, which 



OUR BOYS. 



165 



materially adds to the difficulty of controlling it, especially 
when the field is hard. The goals, which must be at least 
125 yards apart, consist of two poles set upright in the ground 
and surmounted with flags, six feet in all in height and six 
feet apart. These simple materials, with a good, smooth, 



Opponents' 
Goal. 



Kelder. 
o 



Home. 
O 



Fielder. 
O 



Fielder. 
O 



Fielder. 
o 



Fielder. 
o 



Fielder. 



Center. 
o 



Cover-Point. 



Fielder. 



Point, 
o 



Goal Keeper. 



0^ 



level field, constitute the entire equipment necessary for a first- 
class game. 

Twelve players compose one side, and they take their po- 



J 66 OUR BOYS. 

sitions more or less as indicated in the diagram. The matter 
of position, however, except as regards goal keeper, point, 
cover-point, and home, is not so rigidly adhered to as in 
cricket or baseball, a good deal of liberty to roam being 
allowed provided the game does not suffer. 

The players are matched in pairs, each member of a side 
having one of his opponents specially under his charge, 
although of course he may attack any other who happens to 
have the ball, and one of the great arts in the game is to " un- 
cover," that is, to get away from your opponent so that he 
cannot interfere with your liberty ot' action. Everything 
being ready, the two "centers" kneel down opposite one 
another in mid-field, with their lacrosses placed side by side, 
and the referee lays the little rubber sphere between the sticks. 
This is called the "face." There is a moment of intense ex- 
pectation. It is really a beautiful sight. From end to end of 
the long, level field stand the players in pairs of red and blue, 
with every nerve and muscle athrob, yet silent and still as 
statues. Alert and anxious, the goal keepers, sentinel-Hke, 
guard the gaping space between the poles, while halfway be- 
tween them the two kneeling figures await the signal to begin. 
"Play," shouts the referee, and with that word there is a 
quick, fierce struggle between the "centers," and then, either 
red or blue gaining the advantage, the ball is caught up upon 
a lacrosse, and with a skillful throw sent sailing through the 
air toward one of the goals. Thenceforward there is not a 
moment's pause or peace until a game is won. 

Up and down the field, now threatening the blue goal and 
now the red, the rubber travels, speeding through the air like 
a bird, or bounding along the ground, every player having his 
chance at it — no room for ' ' loafing ' * in this game — until at 
length some well-directed shot proves too much for the vigi- 
lant goal keeper, and with a triumphant shout of " Game! " 
the sticks are thrown into the air in token of victory. 

Lacrosse, both from the players' and spectators* point of 
view, has many advantages over other field games. In the 
first place, it is so simple that any looker-on for the first time 
may understand it at once. There is nothing intricate or 



OUR BOYS. 167 

puzzling about it. The players are divided into two equal 
sides, certain men are posted in certain positions ; there is a 
goal to defend and a goal to attack ; the object of both sides 
is to put the ball through their opponents' goal, and to pre- 
vent him putting it through theirs ; and all the running, throw- 
ing, catching, " tobying," and endless variety of brilliant and 
beautiful play has this single object in view. 

Again, it is a cheap game, requiring such inexpensive ma- 
terial, and it is in no sense exclusive. Every player has his 
innings, so to speak, and no one can monopolize the fun, how- 
ever good a player he may be. Good players cannot be kept 
down. They are bound to come to the surface. Then it 
affords so much exercise of the finest possible kind, bringing 
into play every muscle and sinew in the body, and a game can 
be played in so short a time. Finally, it is a very safe game. 
Accidents of a serious character, such as only too often cast a 
shadow over the cricket, baseball, or football field, are un- 
known in lacrosse. Shins may be barked, noses bruised, 
hands scratched, and eyes blackened, but that is the worst of 
the damage, and many good players come out of fiercely 
fought games altogether scathless. 



KITES. 

KITE-FLYING has been an American institution ever since 
Mr. Benjamin Franklin invited the electric current down 
the string of his historic kite, and if his successors make no 
valuable discoveries they at any rate derive a great deal of 
pleasure from bridling the wind with wood, paper, and string. 

The most satisfactory form of the kite for flying purposes 
is the "hexagon." For a good-sized "hexagon" the fol- 
lowing dimensions will be found about right, although indi- 
vidual taste may make some slight alteration in the propor- 
tions : 

The main sticks, a b and c d,2 feet each. The cross-stick, 
ef, 1 foot 8 inches. These sticks, 
if possible, should be of dry pine \ 
inch square. They may be found 
in any planing mill, or the kite- 
maker can saw them out him.self . 

When all the sticks have been cut 
the right length lay the long sticks 
on top of one another so that the 
ends correspond. Ten inches from 
one end drive a brad carefully 

through the sticks, and then on ^ — 

through the center of the cross-piece, e f. After spreading the 
sticks so that they will be situated something like those in Fig. 
1 wind the center crossing firmly with heavy carpet thread. 

Next notch the ends of the sticks, and at d, b, and /"drive 
very fine brads into the centers of the notches. Now for the 
"belt-line." Tie the end of a piece of light fishline to the 
brad at d, pass it over the notches at e, a, c,f, b, until it comes 
back to d again. Pull it tight and fasten on the brad at d. 
Move the stick a b until the distance from d io b equals 16 
inches. Then twist the line around the brad at b and the two 
sticks cannot change their positions. Make .?/" parallel to d b, 
and twist the line around the brad at/ Now the sticks will 




OUR BOYS. 169' 

be held rigidly in their proper positions, and the frame thor- 
oughly braced. 

To cover the kite use thin and firm brown paper. Lay a 
sheet of paper on the floor and place the frame on top of it. 
With a pencil and ruler draw lines following the outline of the 
frame an inch from the " belt-line " all around. Cut out the 
cover, lay the frame on it, paste or mucilage the edges care- 
fully, fold them over the line, and adjust them to the corners 
firmly. Take care to keep the paper stretched tightly over 
the frame. Put the kite where it will dry thoroughly before 
using it. When thoroughly dry we must be very careful in 
"rigging" and " getting up " our kite. 

First of all we must make arrangements for fastening the 
twine to the kite. On each long stick six inchesupward from 
the cross of the kite make a little mark with a pencil, and 
eight inches dowmvard on each long stick make similar marks. 
These are the points at which the bands are to be attached. 

The bands should be of light fishline and adjusted as fol- 
lows : At the marks already made punch small holes through 
the paper close to each side of the stick. Pass the twine from 
the front of the kite through one hole around the stick, and 
back through the other hole. Tie a firm knot which will not 
slip. The stick may be notched very slightly if necessary. 

Make the upper band long enough to reach within an inch 
of the cross when it is drawn down toward the center. The 
lower band should a little more than reach the upper. Take 
the end of the flying twine, pass it through both bands, and 
knot it firmly so that there can be no slipping, for if when the 
kite is once up the bands slip it is likely to ' ' dive ' ' and wreck 
itself. 

In order to fly well the kite must assume a position like that 
indicated in Fig. 2, and for this reason the upper band is made 
shorter than the lower, so that the kite 
will slant at the right angle. 

Now for the tail. The old-fashioned 
kite-tail was made of rolls of paper tied 
along a string, but cloth tail has been 
found much more satisfactory. The 




170 OUR BOYS. 

very best material for kite-tails is old linen or muslin, which 
may be torn into long, regular strips and sewed or knotted to- 
gether. The tail-band is attached firmly to the lower extrem- 
ities of the long sticks, just as the other bands are fastened 
further up. A loop is made in the middle of the tail-band 
and the tail put through it, for it would be disastrous to have 
the tail slip from side to side. 

The kite cord should be strong white twine, wound "hand 
over, hand under " on a stick so that it will pay out easily. 

The best place to fly a kite is in an open field or meadow. 
In the country it is easy to find a good spot for the purpose, 
but in town and city empty lots are few and telegraph and 
telephone wires woefully plenty. Having selected your spot, 
put on the kite what you think will be enough tail, and get a 
friend to hold the kite by the cross in the rear while you walk 
toward the wind paying out twine. When you are thirty yards 
from the kite stand still, hold the twine firmly in the right 
hand. Wait for a strong gust of wind, and then, with a shout 
to "Let go," run forward, not too fast, keeping an eye on the 
kite. If it dives about wildly- let out a little twine; if it con- 
tinues "diving" bring it down and add some tail. If, on the 
other hand, the kite rises slowly and sluggishly it will prob- 
ably be necessary to take off a piece of the ballast. 

When these matters are adjusted try again, and if it rises 
quickly and vigorously pay out your twine not too rapidly. 
The moment it begins to sink stop letting out, and if this fails 
" wind in" until it recovers. When once safely up on a steady 
breeze a kite requires little attention, but on a squally day it 
is very much like a yacht, and needs careful watching. During 
the gusts, when the kite " dives," let out, but "wind in " dur- 
ing the lulls. Never let out all your twine on a windy day, 
for you will have no reserve when your kite dives, and you may 
lose it. 

Kite-flying is an excellent sport. It demands mechanical 
skill and close attention, and keeps the flyer out in the open 
air — a more than good thing in itself. 



EASY EXPERIMENTS FOR OUR BOYS. 



I.— OUR BREATH. 



OUR breath is a mixture of two elements, two compounds 
and certain impurities from the body. Let us try a few 
experiments with each of these substances and two or three 
more with the air as a whole. Blow upon a cool piece of 
glass and you will at once see watery vapor from the breath 
form upon its surface. If the glass is very cold the vapor 
will soon be frozen. Next get a little lump of quicklime. 
Dissolve some of it in a tin cup. . Carefully pour off the clear 
liquid into a bottle. Cork the bottle and let it stand for a few 
hours. Pour a little of the water into a goblet, place into the 
water one end of a pipestem or tube of glass and blow your 
breath through it. The water at once becomes milky, show- 
ing that-carbonic dioxide (CO') was in your breath and has 
united with the lime to form many particles of limestone. 
Fasten a little piece of lighted candle to a wire so that you 
can let it down into a bottle or fruit jar. Take a full breath 
and hold it for a few seconds, then breathe through a tube 
into the bottle. Lower the candle and it will go out, because 
the carbonic dioxide extinguishes flame. 

Pour some water into a plate. Float in it on a small piece 
of pasteboard an inch of lighted candle. Invert over the 
candle a fruit jar. The candle will soon go out. As it burns 
low pour more water into the plate and 
you will notice that the water rises in the 
jar, showing two things — that something 
has gone out and that what is left will 
not keep the candle burning. The • ' some- 
fc.. thing " is nitrogen, which forms about 
__ ___ W four fifths of our breath. 

PREPARING NITROGEN. Jhe next experiment is not very agree- 
able; but truth-seekers must not be deterred by trifles. 
Breathe deep and blow into a large bottle. Tightly cork. 



OUR BOYS. 173 

After a few days the contents of the bottle will become offen- 
sive on account of the decay of animal matter thrown out from 
the lungs. 

The most important substance in the breath is oxygen. This 
gas is the most widely diffused and variously active element in 
nature. Before ascertaining a few facts about it we must learn 
how to make an alcohol lamp. Get two inches of glass tubing 
as large inside as a slate pencil, or, if you cannot procure 
that, ask your photographer for a little tintype; roll this 
around a pencil and insert it through the cork of an empty 
ink bottle. Draw through this tube a piece of candle-wick. 
Use a cartridge-shell as a cap to prevent evaporation. If your 
druggist declines to sell you pure alcohol have him throw into 
it a little camphor gum. This will not hurt it for your purpose. 
Now you have a safe little lamp without cost, and can do with 
it a great many things, such as bending glass tubing, drawing 
it out fine, etg., etc. Alcohol flame is very hot and does not 
smoke. 

Twist some candle-wick and make a string about as large as 
a straw. Soak it in melted tallow or paraffine. This will 
make a convenient taper for future experiments. Ask your 
jeweler for a small broken watch spring. Heat one end in 
the flame of your lamp and bend it so as 
to make a little loop. Wrap around this 
some waxed thread. Find at the tinner's 
a small piece of charcoal bark. Buy of 
your druggist five cents' worth each of 
potassium chlorate and manganese dioxide. 
Mix them in about equal portions and half 
fill a pipe bowl with the mixture. We are 
now ready to learn something about oxygen, burning a watch 
Heat the mixture over the lamp. Light spring. 

the wax taper and from time to time hold it just within the 
pipe bowl. When the brilliancy of the taper increases you 
may know that oxygen is going off, and you may blow out 
and rekindle the taper many times in the mouth of the pipe. 
If now the oxygen has not all been used, light the string wound 
on the watch spring and thrust that into the bowl. Should 




174 



OUR BOYS. 




^ 



SPOOL EXPERIMENT. 



you be skillful the watch spring will burn with brilliant scin- 
tillations. Try until you succeed. Then you will have accom- 
plished a task which has cost many a teacher an hour to do 
even with expensive apparatus. Now light a tip of the char- 
coal bark and place it at the mouth of the pipe. If the oxygen 
is still going off beautiful sparks will be scattered from the 
live coal. This wonderful substance, oxygen, is what makes 
all fuel and illuminating material burn, and also keeps up the 
fires in our bodies. 

Having thus tested the different substances composing the 
breath, let us now try a few experiments with air as a unit. 
Place a card on one end of a spool. Stick a pin through the 
card into the opening. Apply your mouth to the other end 

and try to blow the card off. 
You cannot. Why not ? Take 
a round piece of leather about 
three or four inches in diameter 
and shave the upper edge so as 
to make it flexible. Insert in 
the center a strong string. . Soak the leather and press it 
firmly to the bare floor. Jerk it quickly. As the air presses 
with a force of fifteen pounds to the square inch it will be diffi- 
cult to pull the sucker away. Fill a goblet with water and 
carefully press a sheet of paper over the mouth. Hold your 
hand on the paper and invert the goblet. The water will not 
run out. 

Heat a piece of glass tubing (tubing can usually be pro- 
cured of a druggist, and sometimes confec- 
tioners sell very good tubing for a penny a stick 
filled with candies). Draw it out to a point in 
the flame of your alcohol lamp. Make the 
piece six or eight inches long. Find a bottle 
holding about a pint, large at the bottom, if 
possible, and fill it one quarter full of water. 
Insert the large end of the tube through the 
cork into the water. (A rubber stopper is bet- 
ter, as it should fit tight.) Blow through the 
tube, or clasp the bottle with your hands ; the 




OUR BOYS. ' 175 

water will then flow through the tube and form a pretty foun- 
tain. You here have a perfect illustration of the way in which 
geysers and flowing oil wells operate. Pour out the water 
and insert the small end of the tube in the cork. Apply your 
mouth to the other end of the tube and suck out the air. Then 
quickly cover the end of the tube with your finger as you re- 
move your lips, invert the bottle, and insert the tube into a 
glass of water. The water will make a pretty spray in the 
bottle, and you have thus formed the "fountain in vacuo " 
without incurring the expense of an air pump. If the water 
is tinted these last experiments will be more pleasing. 



II.— LIQUIDS. 

We desire to make our experiments both entertaining and 
instructive. All arts are learned by practice. Physical 
science is largely dependent upon experimentation. It 
will often be found that the simple experiments suggested in 
these articles illustrate some principle that has a wide applica- 
tion. 

Let us now, in an entertaining way, try to learn a few facts 
about liquids. 

Place an egg in a fruit jar nearly full of water. Drop salt 
into the jar; the egg will rise. Observe that the water is no 
higher than before. What became of the salt? A person 
cannot sink in the Dead Sea. The buoyant power of liquids 
depends upon their specific gravity, by which we mean the 
weight of a volume of any liquid as compared with the weight 
of the same bulk of water. The instrument used for finding 
the weight of liquids is called a hydrometer. Let us make 
one. 

Whittle out a piece of dry pine stick four inches long so 
that the large end will be the size of a goose quill, and taper 
to a point. Into the large end stick two pins, and then drop 
it into a vessel of water. The stick will float upright. Mark 
it with a pencil at the surface of the water. Now drop the 
** hydrometer " into salt water, then into kerosene. Observe 



176 OUR BOYS. 

how far it sinks in each. Varnish the hydrometer, or cover 
it with paraffine, and it will not absorb water. 

A body floating in water loses as much weight as the weight 
of the water it displaces. Read the story of Archimedes and 
the golden crown. We apply this principle in building iron 
ships. Gold leaf will float. Some metals, as potassium and 
sodium, both float and burn. 

A pretty experiment may be performed with camphor gum. 
Float and ignite a small piece on water. Note that it is at- 
tracted to the sides of the vessel. V/hy ? 

Heat and draw out fine a tube of glass. Place one end in 
a little colored water. The water will rise several inches in 
the tube by capillary attraction. Take two plates of window- 
glass three or four inches square and lay one upon the other 
so that they will join at one edge, while the opposite edges 
are separated by a twine string. Place the wedge-shaped 
end in water tinted with a few drops of red ink. See how the 

water rises between the glasses and 
also follows the string. 

A siphon is a tube bent like the 
letter [i, the sides being of unequal 
length- It may be made of rubber, 
glass, a straw, or any other air-tight 
substance. Insert the short end of 
CAPILLARY ATTRACTION. thc siphou into 3. Hquld and exhaust 
the air with the mouth. The liquid will flow through the tube. 
The height to which it will rise depends upon its weight and 
the pressure of the atmosphere. The accompanying cut from 
Gage's "Physics" shows many applications of the siphon, 
and it would be an interesting and profitable exercise for our 
readers to see how many of these experiments they can per- 
form with home-made apparatus. 

Let us next learn to make a very interesting instrument 
which we will call a transparent pump. Provide an argand 
lamp chimney, two closely-fitting corks, and a small round file 
broken off near the end. 

Make a hole about the size of a slate pencil through the 
corks, and pin over each hole a little leather valve. Into the 




OUR BOYS. 



177 



upper cork fasten a wooden rod about a foot long and the 
diameter of a lead pencil. Place one cork with the valve 




SIPHONS. 

opening upward firmly in the tube and insert the piston 
cork in the other end, valve opening upward also. 
This should fit exactly, but not be so tight as not to 
move. If a spout is desired, bore a hole near the large 
end of the chimney by giving the file, kept wet, a 
gyratory motion. Insert in this opening through a 
piece of rubber tubing a short glass tube, bent by heat- 
ing over a spirit lamp. 

It is interesting to watch the movements of the valves during 
the operation of pumping. An old pump maker asked Gal- 
ileo to explain the principle of the pump. He could not. 
12 



GLASS PUMP. 



178 OUR BOYS. 

Are you able to give the philosophy of a pump, and even make 
its action visible? 

Few contrivances in nature are more beautiful than that by 
which water is carried through the crust of the earth. This is 
accomplished by a natural system of pipeage, consisting of 
two tight layers of rock or clay with a layer of porous sand or 
gravel between them. When the upper layer is pierced or 
broken the " water seeks its level." 

Water has thus been found at a great depth in many places, 
even beneath the hot sands of the desert. The illustration 




Tiir T'prv(-Ti'i T? riTT apil^^t^v ■\i tt t t; 



will show how by this means the homes of men are enriched 
and beautified. 

An ordinary tea kettle shows the principle of the artesian 
well, inasmuch as the water stands as high in the spout as in 
the kettle. This fact, though familiar, is wonderful. It is 
sometimes stated thus, as a paradox : "Ever so little water will 
balance ever so much." Should you connect a small pipe 
with the bottom of a great tank the liquid would rise and fall 
in tank and tube together. 

This leads us to another apparently contradictory statement 
called the "culinary paradox," that the way to make water 
boil is to cool it. Provide yourself with a bottle that will hold 
about half a pint. Fit it with a tight cork. Fill the bottle 
one quarter full of warm water and place it on a hot stove. 
When the water boils insert the stopper, being careful not to 
burn the fingers. The water at once stops boiling on account 
of the pressure of the steam In the bottle. Steam in the boiler 
of a high-pressure engine is hotter than two hundred and 
twelve degrees, the point at which It is thrown off in the open 
air. Now remove the bottle from the stove and in a few 



OUR BOYS. 179 

seconds the water will again begin to boil. Blow upon the 
bottle and the boiling will become more violent. As it cools 
it will continue to boil for several minutes. You have perhaps 
guessed the reason of this — the steam has become condensed, 
and thus a partial vacuum has been produced, and water boils 
at a low temperature where there is no air. Even when the 
air is rarefied the boiling point is much lowered. Potatoes 
and eggs cannot be boiled upon the tops of high mountains. 
When the water in the bottle ceases to boil you will have a 
' ' water hammer ' ' in which the water will fall from one end of 
the bottle to the other with a sharp metallic sound, because it 
encounters no resistance from air. Lastly, insert the neck of 
the bottle into a vessel of water and slowly remove the cork j 
the water will rise and almost fill the bottle. 



III.— OUR EYES. 

The eye is a camera. Long before Daguerre's invention 
light had been painting pictures on the retina. Like those of 
the photographer's camera, the images in our eyes are inverted. 
We can easily show why this must be so by making in a sheet 
of paper a small round hole like the pupil, and holding the paper 
between a window and some white background. The image 
of the window on the paper will seem to be inverted. If the 
curtain is raised it will in the picture appear to go down. The 
same is true of the magic lantern. The operator must insert 
the picture inverted if he would have it appear correctly on the 
screen. 

There is a part of the retina which receives no image, called 
"the blind spot." You can find it in this way: Close the left 
eye and look steadily with the right at the circle before you. 

X 

Slowly move the paper toward and away from your face. At 
a certain distance the cross will entirely disappear. 

This effect is produced when the light rays fall upon the 
fibers of the optic nerve. One would suppose that these fibers 
would be exceedingly sensitive, but they cannot perceive a 
trace of light. 



180 



OUR BOYS. 



The eye is subject to many delusions. One of the most per- 
fect may be produced in this way : Roll a piece of paper or 
cardboard so as to make a tube six or eight inches long and 
with an opening the size of a quarter of a dollar. Place the 
end of the tube to the right eye and look straight forward with 
both eyes. Rest a book or the hand vertically on the left edge 
of the tube near the outer end. Slowly move the book toward 
the face. You will see a round hole through the book. 

Another deception which affords profitable reflection can be 
shown with coins. Take three coins of the same size and 
arrange them in the shape of a triangle, thus : Let two of them 
form the base and be about two inches apart. Now request 
some one to place, without measuring, the third, so that there 
will be the same distance between it and each of the other coins 
that there is from outer edge to outer edge of the other coins. 
Not one person in a hundred will get it right unless much time 
is taken for deliberation. 

Indeed, how often we learn that " things are not what they 
seem ! " All are familiar with some of the effects of refraction. 
We see the sun before it rises and after it sets. Water and 
air are constantly disturbing our vision. Place a spoon in a 
goblet ; it appears to be broken at the surface of the water. 
Put a coin in an empty teacup and push it away from you until 
the coin just disappears. Hold head and hand steady and pour 
water into the cup without moving the coin. The coin reap- 
pears, showing that the rays of light which come from the coin 
are bent down to the eye. Sportsmen who try to spear fish 
sometimes miss the mark because they have not learned this 
law of physics. 

Dark bodies appear smaller than 
light ones of the same size. Black 
dresses make stout people appear 
more slender. 

One illustration will afford an in- 
teresting proof of this law of irradia- 
tion, as it is called. Place this paper 
some feet from you and look at the 
Fig. I. black and white squares (Fig. 1). 




OUR BOYS. 



181 



Where they meet there seems to be a strait of white connecting 
the two seas of the same color. Upon looking at the other 
picture (Fig. 2), the white squares appear to be the larger, 
although the two are of the same dimensions. 

One person in seventeen is color blind. He cannot dis- 
tinguish some colors from others. To him the green leaves 
have the same color as the ripe cherries. Many of our railroad 
managers now examine their employees with reference to this 




GREEW 



GRffN/SHBLUe. 



Fig. 2. 

defect of vision. Colors often deceive the best of eyes. Look 
steadily at a blue wafer and then quickly at a yellow one. The 
latter will appear green. Other combinations can be made. 
This fact is important in mixing paint and printing maps. 
White is produced by the union of all the primary colors. Two 

colors are said to be comple- 
^LowisH GREEN mcntarywhen together they form 
white light. In the diagram 
(Fig. 3) the colors which are 
opposite each other are comple- 
mentary. 

Suspend horizontally a square 
or round piece of pasteboard 
about eight inches in diameter 
by three strings of equal length, 
and attach them to a firm piece 
One side of the center cut a 




vioiir 



VIOLET m 



REDDISH ORANGE 



RED 

Fig. 3. 
of twine or fish line (Fig. 4). 
slit one inch by two. Twist the string, and when sufficient 
motion has been secured a circular opening will appear, through 
any part of which a newspaper may be read. This arises from 



182 OUR BOYS. 

the fact that the retina can retain an impression one eighth of 
a second. The experiment may now be varied by marking 
with a crayon the upper surface of the 
card with the complementary colors. 
Upon turning the card the card will seem 
to be nearly white. If the colors were 
pure and in true position, the white would 
Y^^^ be perfect. In like manner, if the seven 

colors were painted, they would become white if the card were 
revolved fast enough so that each remained in the eye until all 
could get there. 

An experiment showing that the retina becomes tired and less 
sensitive may be performed in this manner. Make a cross on a 
dark ground and look at it steadily for some seconds. Then 
quickly look upon a white background, and a black cross will 
appear. 




IV.— FORCES. 



Force is that which tends to produce motion or rest. Instru- 
ments or machines are contrivances for applying force. The 
words force and energy are often used in the same sense. It 
is now known that energy is, like matter, ever changing its form, 
but never destroyed. Sunshine makes wheat grow; wheat 
produces strength ; this becomes motion, as in the blacksmith's 
hammer; motion is converted into heat in the smitten iron. 
Observe the electric light. It has been successively sunbeam, 
vital force, affinity, heat, motion, electricity, light. 

Hold near the stove a sheet of wrapping paper, then draw 
it rapidly between the arm and body, clasping it quite closely. 
Now, if it is placed near the wall it will fly to it and be held 
there for several hours if the air is dry. It would cling to the 
ceiling in like manner. Dry the pith of a sunflower stalk. 
Suspend from a bent glass rod by means of white silk threads 
two pieces of the pith half as large as a chestnut. Vigorously 
comb the hair with a rubber comb and touch the pith balls. 
They will fly apart. Separate them a little distance, touch one 



OUR BOYS. 



183 



with the comb and the other with a piece of glass that has been 
rubbed with a dry cloth. They will now be attracted to each 
other. Place some bits of tissue paper under a plate of glass 
that is supported by two books, then rub the surface of the 
glass. The papers will dance about in an amusing manner. 




THE BOY SUPPORTED BY THE GLASSES BECOMES ELECTRIFIED WHEN BEATEN 
WITH A CAT SKIN. 

We have been playing with frictional electricity, which Franklin 
proved to be of the same nature as lightning. Many interest- 
ing experiments may be performed with a five-cent magnet. 

Gravity is another force with which we are all constantly 
experimenting. Every time we climb or descend a hill, when- 
ever we try to maintain our balance, all pay unconscious defer- 
ence to this invisible power, which not only controls small 
things, but moves the worlds. Look around and you will find 
that the stability of objects is secured by making the center of 
gravity low. This we accomplish chiefly in two ways — by 
making the base broad and by constructing it of heavy materials. 
An ordinary lamp will serve as an illustration, but the follow- 
ing will be more novel : 

Wrap a sheet of manilla j 

paper two feet long around 
a broom handle ; fasten the 
edges together with muci- 
lage, and draw off when 
dry. Insert in the large end gravity experiment. 




184' 



OUR BOYS. 



a tightly fitting cork into which a pin has been thrust two 
thirds of its length. Into opposite sides of the cork stick 
two jackknives. Push the head of a needle into the cork 
of a bottle. Balance the tube by carefully resting the side 
of the pin upon the needle point. A curious illustration 
of force of gravity acting through the air may be given as fol- 
lows : Lay a shingle upon a table, the thicker end projecting 
about four inches. Lay upon this a sheet of newspaper 
smoothed down. Strike the edge of the shingle a sharp blow. 
Why do you not knock it off ? 

Cohesion is a force without which there would be no such 
thing as ten^a firma — firm earth. It holds together the particles 
of every solid substance. Heat is opposed to cohesion. The 
morning sun melts the frost and then converts it into vapor. 
Crystallization is one form of cohesion. Catch the snowflakes 
on a piece of black cloth. Their prevailing shape is like that 
of a star, but there is an infinite variety of modifications. Place 




CRYSTALS OF SNOW. 



upon a piece of glass a solution of salt or alum, then heat the 
glass and see the crystals form immediately. View them even 
through a common microscope and notice how many beautiful 
forms you will discover. 

Adhesion holds together the particles of different substances. 
When a lump of sugar is dropped into water it dissolves, 
because the adhesion between water and sugar is greater than 
the cohesion of the sugar. Drop in a common pebble ; the 
result is just the contrary. Blow a soap bubble, that plaything 
of philosophers as well as children. Here is a film of soap and 
water inclosing a sphere of air. The soap joins with the water 
to make a stronger film. If glycerine be added it will become 
still more elastic. Cements depend for their efficiency upon 




OUR BOYS. 185 

adhesion. This force tends to make liquids mix, and, what 
is more wonderful, diffuses gases in the same manner. Take 
a full breath. Oxygen passes through the membrane of your 
lungs, and, robbing your blood of another element, passes out 
again as a poisonous compound. 

Friction is another form of adhesion. The holding qualities 
of a knot depend chiefly upon this force. 

Here is a knot that every person should know how to tie. 
Remember, the string in the right hand 
should first pass over the string in the 
left hand, and the second time under; 
this makes the "flat," or "figure 
eight" knot. Great use is made of " figure eight " knot. 
elastic force. 

The following will show neatly both the compressibility and 
elasticity of air. Fill a pint bottle with water. Thrust a little 
vial, mouth downward, into the bottle. Now with the mouth 
withdraw about half the air that is in the vial ; then fit one of 
the fingers closely into the neck of the bottle and by pushing 
it down the vial will descend ; by varying the pressure it can 
be made to rise and fall at pleasure. Two or three vials may 
be used. 

Brief mention has thus been made of some of the forces 
which do the work of the world. We will conclude with an 
experiment showing the effect of removing heat force. Place 
in a basin a quantity of crushed ice and salt. Put into the 
mixture a vial of water and it will soon freeze. Rest the bottom 
of the basin on a wet board and it will in a short time be frozen 
to it, even in midsummer. The same result would follow even 
if the board be placed upon the stove. 



v.— OUR EARS. 
The boys and girls of to-day learn wonderful facts about 
sound which were never dreamed of in the philosophies of their 
fathers. Look into their yellow old school books and you will 
find that telephones, phonographs, and microphones were not 
mentioned. 



186 OUR BOYS. 

Even in telegraphing operators now rely solely upon their 
ears in receiving messages, while twenty-five years ago they 
depended entirely upon their eyes. Every hour of the day 
hundreds of lives are dependent for safety upon the accuracy 
with which trained ears distinguish between sounds which to 
the unskillful seem alike. 

Train the senses. That youth has found one great secret 
of success who has acquired the habit of using these instru- 
ments of knowledge with accuracy and promptness. One prime 
object in experimenting is the acquisition of the power of close 
observation. 

Among the more valuable experiments relating to sound are 
those which illustrate its mode of motion, speed, pitch, quan- 
tity, and quality. 

Note the instant when a distant steamboat whistles, or the 
puff of smoke leaves a gun, or a flash of lightning illumines 
the sky, and the second when the sound produced reaches the 
ear. From this you can easily calculate the distance of either 
object, for we know that sound travels one thousand and ninety 
feet a second. A ray of light would go round our earth eight 
times in a second, and therefore for short distances its speed 
cannot be calculated. 

Take a board or slender box about two feet long, and drive 
a nail in the upper edge of one end and attach a little wheel 




Fig I. — Sonometer or monochord. 

to the other. Fasten on one end a wedge-shaped stick and 
place a movable stick of the same kind at the other end. 
Fasten a string or fine piano wire to the nail, lead it over the 
bridges and wheel, and attach to the other end some kind of 



1 



OUR BOYS. 187 

weight; a small tin pail partially filled with water serves a good 
purpose (Fig. 1). This instrument is called a sonometer, but 
Pythagoras, who lived five hundred years before the birth of 
Christ, named it a monochord. Strike the cord or draw 
across it a violin bow. Now move the left hand bridge half 
the distance to the other, and then to various places, each time 
repeating the stroke. Put more water in the pail and sound 
the cord again. Replace the string with one that is heavier 
and draw the bow. If each sound produced has been care- 
fully observed this truth has been learned, that pitch depends 
upon rapidity of vibrations; and this is varied in stringed 
instruments in three ways — by shortening, or tightening the 
cord, or varying its weight. 

That instrument so formidable to the quiet of the household, 
the rubber whistle (Fig. 2), may be made to 
do some good if we use it to illustrate variation 
of pitch. 

A goblet also may be made to sing by rub- 
bing the linger over its edge (Fig. 3). You 
can alter the pitch by varying the amount of 
water in the goblet, or the speed of the fingers, 
or the size of the tumbler. 

The god Pan made flutes of reeds, but in our ^^^' '^^ 

dayboys think the willow more musical. Make 
three willow whistles, one from a small branch 
and two from a larger one. In the latter case 
leave the spaces between the plugs and the 
mouth-piece of unequal lengths. Now blow ^''^- 3- 

the whistles, and what is the result? What variation can also 
be produced by altering the holes which admit and give egress 
to the breath? 

Fasten a tack to the wire of the monochord horizontal to the 
board. Cause the wire to vibrate and draw along vertically a 
piece of smoked glass so that it just touches the point of the 
tack. A crooked line will be produced, showing that sound 
travels in waves. 

A call bell when struck, if brought near the cheek, will pro- 
duce a tickling sensation, and the waves of great bells in towers 





OUR BOYS. 



smite the ear with considerable force, and are easily felt by the 
nerves of touch. 

Different kinds of sound all travel with essentially the same 
speed. If this were not so we could not have any musical 
combinations of voices or instruments. If the cornet's notes 
were late, or the base did not arrive in time, the effect would 
be laughable but not artistic. But sounds do not travel with 
the same speed if they go 
through different media. If 
you are walking on the rail- 
road, stop and listen to the 
blows of the trackmen. 
Two are heard for each 
stroke. One comes by way 
of the rails and the other 
through the air. The former 
makes the better time. Sol- 
ids are excellent conduct- 
ors and metals are the 

best of all. Place a watch Fig. 4.— The Human Ear. 

at one end of a long pole and listen at the other. The ticks 
can be distinctly heard, and at a much greater distance if an 
iron pipe be used. A pleasant variation of this experiment 
consists in placing the pole at the throat of a person who is 
talking and in listening at the other end. The vibrations of 
the vocal chords may be felt if the pole is delicately held. 

Seeing is like hearing. Waves of ether strike the eye; 
waves of air beat upon the eardrum (Fig. 4). Sound and 
light have many points in common. Both are motion, and 
each can be thrown back, absorbed, or turned aside. Dark- 
ness may be produced by waves being too slow or too fast, 
and silence in the same way. 

Loudness depends upon the size of the waves and the dis- 
tance from the vibrating body. The heaviest cannonading 
ever heard on this continent was at the battle of Gettysburg, 
for there were the most pieces of artillery smiting the air. Two 
miles away the sound was but one fourth as loud, and always 
varies in that proportion inversely as the square of the distance. 




OUR BOYS. 189 

What pleasant fancies the ancients indulged in in regard to 
echoes or reflected sounds ! These no longer possess super- 
natural charms, but are by no means robbed of interest. Did 
you ever stop to think of the conditions essential to the forma- 
tion of echoes? Have you been in a place where one sound 
made many echoes? The stories about '• whispering gal- 
leries," the musical Memnon, sounding grottoes, and echoing 
chasms bear with them such an air of romance, that it seems 
an almost thankless task to interpret them in the light of sober 
science. 

Speech distinguishes man from every other creature. The 
human voice is the most wonderful of all musical instruments, 
jenny Lind's unaided voice commanded more attention and 
admiration than any orchestra that ever performed. Might a 
friend of ' ' Our Boys ' ' make a very short plea for the train- 
ing of the voice? — -not for singing and oratory particularly, but 
for the everyday voice of common speech and reading. Clear, 
agreeable, kindly, courteous, sympathetic. Ah, the voice! 
It is the most flexible and expressive agent of the human soul, 
and, according to Corti, plays with infinite variations upon 
" an instrument of three thousand strings." 



VI.— MOTION. 

Strictly speaking, there is no absolute rest in the whole earth. 
As our globe whirls on its axis and speeds around the sun, all 
things on it or in it must also be moving. We are kept from 
darting into space by a nice balancing of forces. The boy who 
turns a grindstone knows that if it revolves too fast the water 
will fly, and a similar tendency on a great scale modifies the 
directions of all oceanic and atmospheric currents. If there 
were an interpolar railroad, and the cars should start from the 
south pole, which way during the whole trip would they tend 
to fly off ? 

Strange to say, we should fly into space if our earth should 
either stop or revolve much faster. Matter objects to both 
starting and stopping. 



190 



OUR BOYS. 



To prove the former, place a card on the open mouth of a 
bottle and on it a coin. Snap the card smartly with the finger. 
It flies forward, but the coin drops into the bottle. On the 
other hand, the foolish passenger who jumps from the moving 
train finds that while his feet are stopped his head goes on. 

Momentum, or amount of motion, is the product of two 
factors — speed and weight. Either factor being large you 
have a striking result. Glaciers cannot be seen to move, but 
they grind rocks to powder. The wind is light, but forests fall 
before it. 

Reaction is always equal to action. Provide yourself with 
five or six glass balls. Cement to each of them a loop of 
leather or cloth. Suspend them by threads so that they just 

- -....,. .- .,-, - touch each other (Fig. 1). Let 

drop one and then two or three from 
one side. Now one from each side. 
Here is perfect elasticity, and a good 
illustration not only of the third law of 
motion, but of the manner in which 
solids are heated by vibrations passing 



Fig. I. 



from molecule to molecule. 

This leads to a remark concerning the motion of mobile sub- 
stances. Place in a bottle or flask some water and a little saw- 
dust. Heat the water, and if you watch the sawdust you will 
discover that it rises and falls in regular currents. Warm cur- 
rents at the top and cold below is the general rule for both 
water and air. 

A simple method for showing the principle of atmospheric 
currents, and also the plan often used in ventilating mines, may 
be shown as follows : Find a little box like a small fancy soap 
box, or any other tight vessel of similar dimensions. Make a 
hole at one end and a ring of small holes at the other. Place 
over the former an argand lamp chimney and inside of the 
ring a lighted piece of candle. Slip over the candle another 
chimney and hold a lighted paraffine taper at the opening of 
the other chimney. The flame and smoke will descend, and 
the latter will soon be seen coming out of the other tube 
(Fig. 2). In such mines they keep a fire burning at one 



OUR BOYS. 



191 



opening, out of which the foul air passes 
and the pure air comes in at another 
shaft. A pretty experiment showing the 
same principle may be given by holding 
over a lamp chimney the down of milk- 
weed. It will float to the ceiling and 
often return to the lamp, and so continue 
until it gets out of the currents. 

Few departments of science have been | 
studied with greater diligence than that 
which considers the direction of motion. 
Robin Hood, who split the willow wand 
with his arrow, and the commodore who 
fires one of Krupp's great guns, the Indian who shoots the 
cataract, and the astronomer who tracks a comet, alike depend 
for their aim upon a knowledge of the laws which govern the 
motions of bodies. Motions are either simple or compound. 
When I drop an apple into your hand I illustrate the former, 
and when you bow your acknowledgment you show the latter, 
for your head is moved by two muscles acting on opposite 
sides of your head. 




Fig. 



€Xj 





When motion encounters an impenetrable body it is thrown 
back so that the angle a, b, c (Fig. 3) will always equal c, b, d. 

This great law of reflection not only 
applies to motion, but is also true 
of light, heat, and sound. 

Most motions result from the ac- 
tion of two or more forces. Flying, 
swimming, rowing, sailing, are of 
this kind. The planets all move 
in elliptical orbits by the action of 
Fig. 4- two beautifully balanced forces. 




192 



OUR BOYS. 



This fact was discovered by Kepler. Let us draw an ellipse. 
Drive two tacks into a board a few inches apart. Drop over 
them a loose loop of string. Place a pencil inside of the string 
and, keeping the string tight, move on with the pencil until 
the ellipse is completed (Fig. 4). 

Did you ever see a farmer in the following manner prepare 
his grain for the fair? Taking handfuls of wheat, he sends it 
from him with a whirling motion. Where on the floor, near by 
or farther away, can he gather the heaviest grains? In the 
fanning mill which is flung farther, the chaff or the grain? 
In the milk separater which takes the outermost path, the 
cream or the milk? 

Perhaps you may be helped to these answers if we first 
perform a few experiments (Fig. 5). Suspend by a firm 




Fig. 5. 

String a glass flask or round bottle, large at its sides. Intro- 
duce into the flask a little water and quicksilver, or, if the 
latter cannot be obtained, a few shot will serve. Twist, either 
with the fingers or a wheel, the string and give the flask a rapid 
motion. The heavy quicksilver forms a shining band around 
the largest part of the flask and the water rises from the bottom. 
Now fasten the cord to the side of a pasteboard, a small hoop, 
a short stick, or a sphere flattened at the poles, and if you are 
sufficiently skillful you will find that they all insist upon revolv- 
ing around their shortest axis. This is due to the action of 
centrifugal force. 

Thus, dear reader, have we spent a little time together in 
studying the wonderful works of God, and I think we have 
at least learned this, that little things are bound to great ones, 
even as a single ray of light shows a path to the great sun. 



3iL77-3 



